' 


THE  DIAMOND  MASTER 


THE 

DIAMOND  MASTER 


«*.  -.• 


BY 

JACQUES  FUTRELLE 

Author  of 

Elusive  Isabel 

The  Thinking  Machine,  etc. 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

HERMAN  PFEIFER 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYIIIGHT  1909 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


PRESS  OF 

BRAUNWORTH  &  CO. 

BOOKBINDERS  AND  PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN,  N.  Y. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PACK 

I  THE  FIRST  DIAMOND 1 

II   TWEEDLEDUM  AND  TWEEDLEDEE       ....  14 

III  THURSDAY  AT  THREE 23 

IV  THE  UNLIMITED  SUPPLY 39 

V  THE  ASTUTE  MR.  BIRNES 54 

VI   THE  MYSTERIOUS  WOMAN 73 

VII  A  WINGED  MESSENGER  .        .        .        .         .80 

VI II   SOME  CONJECTURES        ......  82 

IX  AND  MORE  DIAMONDS  ! 94 

X  THE  BIG  GAME 106 

XI  THE  SILENT  BELL 121 

XII   THE  THIRD  DEGREE 137 

XIII  Ma.  CZENKI  APPEARS 147 

XIV  CAUGHT  IN  THE  NET 156 

XV  THE  TRUTH  IN  PAKT 169 

XVI    MR.  CZENKI  EXPLAINS 185 

XVII    THE  GREAT  CUBE         .....  198 


THE  DIAMOND  MASTER 


THE  DIAMOND  MASTER 

CHAPTER    I 

THE  FIRST  DIAMOND 

THERE  were  thirty  or  forty  personally 
addressed  letters,  the  daily  heritage  of 
the  head  of  a  great  business  establishment; 
and  a  plain,  yellow-wrapped  package  about 
the  size  of  a  cigarette-box,  some  three  inches 
long,  two  inches  wide  and  one  inch  deep.  It 
was  neatly  tied  with  thin  scarlet  twine,  and 
innocent  of  markings  except  for  the  super 
scription  in  a  precise,  copperplate  hand,  and 
the  smudge  of  the  postmark  across  the  ten- 
cent  stamp  in  the  upper  right-hand  corner. 
The  imprint  of  the  cancelation,  faintly  de 
cipherable,  showed  that  the  package  had  been 
1 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

mailed  at  the  Madison  Square  substation  at 
half-past  seven  o'clock  of  the  previous  even 
ing. 

Mr.  Henry  Latham,  president  and  active 
head  of  the  H.  Latham  Company,  manufac 
turing  jewelers  in  Fifth  Avenue,  found  the 
letters  and  the  package  on  his  desk  when  he 
entered  his  private  office  a  few  minutes  past 
nine  o'clock.  The  simple  fact  that  the  pack 
age  bore  no  return  address  or  identifying 
mark  of  any  sort  caused  him  to  pick  it  up  and 
examine  it,  after  which  he  shook  it  inquir 
ingly.  Then,  with  kindling  curiosity,  he 
snipped  the  scarlet  thread  with  a  pair  of  silver 
scissors,  and  unfolded  the  wrappings.  Inside 
was  a  glazed  paper  box,  such  as  jewelers  use, 
but  still  there  was  no  mark,  no  printing,  either 
on  top  or  bottom. 

The  cover  of  the  box  came  off  in  Mr.  La 
tham's  hand,  disclosing  a  bed  of  white  cotton. 


THE    FIRST    DIAMOND 

He  removed  the  downy  upper  layer,  and 
there — there,  nestling  against  the  snowy  back 
ground,  blazed  a  single  splendid  diamond,  of 
six,  perhaps  seven,  carats.  Myriad  colors 
played  in  its  blue-white  depths,  sparkling, 
flashing,  dazzling  in  the  subdued  light.  Mr. 
Latham  drew  one  long  quick  breath,  and 
walked  over  to  the  window  to  examine  the 
stone  in  the  full  glare  of  day. 

A  minute  or  more  passed,  a  minute  of  won 
der,  admiration,  allurement,  but  at  last  he 
ventured  to  lift  the  diamond  from  the  box.  It 
was  perfect,  so  far  as  he  could  see ;  perfect  in 
cutting  and  color  and  depth,  prismatic,  radi 
ant,  bewilderingly  gorgeous.  Its  value?  Even 
he  could  not  offer  an  opinion — only  the  ap 
praisement  of  his  expert  would  be  worth  listen 
ing  to  on  that  point.  But  one  thing  he  knew 
instantly — in  the  million-dollar  stock  of  pre 
cious  stones  stored  away  in  the  vaults  of  the 
3 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

H.  Latham  Company,  there  was  not  one  to 
compare  with  this. 

At  length,  as  he  stared  at  it  fascinated,  he 
remembered  that  he  didn't  know  its  owner,  and 
for  the  second  time  he  examined  the  wrap 
pings,  the  box  inside  and  out,  and  finally  he 
lifted  out  the  lower  layer  of  cotton,  seeking  a 
fugitive  card  or  mark  of  some  sort.  Surely 
the  owner  of  so  valuable  a  stone  would  not  be 
so  careless  as  to  send  it  this  way,  through  the 
mail — unregistered — without  some  method  of 
identification !  Another  sharp  scrutiny  of  box 
and  cotton  and  wrappings  left  him  in  deep 
perplexity. 

Then  another  idea  came.  One  of  the  letters, 
of  course!  The  owner  of  the  diamond  had 
sent  it  this  way,  perhaps  to  be  set,  and  had 
sent  instructions  under  another  cover.  An 

absurd,  even  a  reckless  thing  to  do,  but ! 

And  Mr.  Latham  attacked  the  heap  of  letters 
4 


THE    FIRST    DIAMOND 

neatly  stacked  up  in  front  of  him.  There 
were  thirty-six  of  them,  but  not  one  even  re 
motely  hinted  at  diamonds.  In  order  to  be 
perfectly  sure,  Mr.  Latham  went  through  his 
mail  a  second  time.  Perhaps  the  letter  of  in 
structions  had  come  addressed  to  the  company, 
and  had  gone  to  the  secretary,  Mr.  Flitcroft. 

He  arose  to  summon  Mr.  Flitcroft  from  an 
adjoining  room,  then  changed  his  mind  long 
enough  carefully  to  replace  the  diamond  in  the 
box  and  thrust  the  box  into  a  pigeonhole  of 
his  desk.  Then  he  called  Mr.  Flitcroft  in. 

"Have  you  gone  through  your  morning 
mail?"  Mr.  Latham  inquired  of  the  secretary. 

"Yes,"  he  replied.     "I  have  just  finished." 

"Did  you  happen  to  come  across  a  letter 
bearing  on — that  is,  was  there  a  letter  to-day, 
or  has  there  been  a  letter  of  instructions  as  to 
a  single  large  diamond  which  was  to  come,  or 
had  come,  by  mail?" 

5 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"No,  nothing,"  replied  Mr.  Flitcroft 
promptly.  "The  only  letter  received  to-day 
which  referred  to  diamonds  was  a  notification 
of  a  shipment  from  South  Africa." 

Mr.  Latham  thoughtfully  drummed  on  his 
desk. 

"Well,  I'm  expecting  some  such  letter,"  he 
explained.  "When  it  comes  please  call  it  to  my 
attention.  Send  my  stenographer  in." 

Mr.  Flitcroft  nodded  and  withdrew;  and 
for  an  hour  or  more  Mr.  Latham  was  en 
grossed  in  the  routine  of  correspondence. 
There  was  only  an  occasional  glance  at  the 
box  in  the  pigeonhole,  and  momentary  fits  of 
abstraction,  to  indicate  an  unabated  interest 
and  growing  curiosity  in  the  diamond.  The 
last  letter  was  finished,  and  the  stenographer 
arose  to  leave. 

"Please  ask  Mr.  Czenki  to  come  here,"  Mr. 
Latham  directed. 

6 


THE    FIRST    DIAMOND 

And  after  a  while  Mr.  Czenkl  appeared. 
He  was  a  spare  little  man,  with  beady  black 
eyes,  bushy  brows,  and  a  sinister  scar  extend 
ing  from  the  point  of  his  chin  across  the  right 
jaw.  Mr.  Czenki  drew  a  salary  of  twenty-five 
thousand  dollars  a  year  from  the  H.  Latham 
Company,  and  was  worth  twice  that  much.  He 
was  the  diamond  expert  of  the  firm ;  and  for 
five  or  six  years  his  had  been  the  final  word  as 
to  quality  and  value.  He  had  been  a  laborer 
in  the  South  African  diamond  fields — the  scar 
was  an  assagai  thrust — about  the  time  Cecil 
Rhodes'  grip  was  first  felt  there ;  later  he  was 
employed  as  an  expert  by  Barney  Barnato  at 
Kimberly,  and  finally  he  went  to  London  with 
Adolph  Zeidt.  Mr.  Latham  nodded  as  he  en 
tered,  and  took  the  box  from  the  pigeonhole. 

"Here's  something  I'd  like  you  to  look  at," 
he  remarked. 

Mr.  Czenki  removed  the  cover  and  turned 
7 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

the  glittering  stone  out  into  his  hand.  For  a 
minute  or  more  he  stood  still,  examining  it,  as 
he  turned  and  twisted  it  in  his  fingers,  then 
walked  over  to  a  window,  adjusted  a  magnify 
ing  glass  in  his  left  eye  and  continued  the 
scrutiny.  Mr.  Latham  swung  around  in  his 
chair  and  stared  at  him  intently. 

"It's  the  most  perfect  blue-white  I've  ever 
seen,"  the  expert  announced  at  last.  "I  dare 
say  it's  the  most  perfect  in  the  world." 

Mr.  Latham  arose  suddenly  and  strode  over 
to  Mr.  Czenki,  who  was  twisting  the  jewel  in 
his  fingers,  singling  out,  dissecting,  studying 
the  colorful  flashes,  measuring  the  facets  with 
practised  eyes,  weighing  it  on  his  finger-tips, 
seeking  a  possible  flaw. 

"The  cutting  is  very  fine,"  the  expert  went 
on.  "Of  course  I  would  have  to  use  instru 
ments  to  tell  me  if  it  is  mathematically  cor 
rect;  and  the  weight,  I  imagine,  is — is  about 
8 


THE   FIRST   DIAMOND 

six  carats,  perhaps  a  fraction  more." 

"What's  it  worth?"  asked  Mr.  Latham. 
"Approximately,  I  mean?" 

"We  know  the  color  is  perfect,"  explained 
Mr.  Czenki  precisely.  "If,  in  addition,  the 
cutting  is  perfect,  and  the  depth  is  right,  and 
the  weight  is  six  carats  or  a  fraction  more,  it's 
worth — in  other  words,  if  that  is  the  most  per 
fect  specimen  in  existence,  as  it  seems  to  be, 
it's  worth  whatever  you  might  choose  to  de 
mand  for  it — twenty,  twenty-five,  thirty  thou 
sand  dollars.  With  this  color,  and  assuming 
it  to  be  six  carats,  even  if  badly  cut,  it  would 
be  worth  ten  or  twelve  thousand." 

Mr.  Latham  mopped  his  brow.  And  this 
had  come  by  mail,  unregistered! 

"It  would  not  be  possible  to  say  where — 
where  such  a  stone  came  from — what  coun 
try?"     Mr.      Latham      inquired     curiously. 
"What's  your  opinion?" 
9 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

The  expert  shook  his  head.  "If  I  had  to 
guess  I  should  say  Brazil,  of  course,"  he  re 
plied  ;  "but  that  would  be  merely  because  the 
most  perfect  blue-white  diamonds  come  from 
Brazil.  They  are  found  all  over  the  world — 
in  Africa,  Russia,  India,  China,  even  in  the 
United  States.  The  simple  fact  that  this  color 
is  perfect  makes  conjecture  useless." 

Mr.  Latham  lapsed  into  silence,  and  for  a 
time  paced  back  and  forth  across  his  office; 
Mr.  Czenki  stood  waiting. 

"Please  get  the  exact  weight,"  Mr.  Latham 
requested  abruptly.  "Also  test  the  cutting. 
It  came  into  my  possession  in  rather  an — an 
unusual  manner,  and  I'm  curious." 

The  expert  went  out.  An  hour  later  he  re 
turned  and  placed  the  white,  glazed  box  on  the 
desk  before  Mr.  Latham. 

"The  weight  is  six  and  three-sixteenths 
carats,"  he  stated.  "The  depth  is  absolutely 
10 


THE    FIRST    DIAMOND 

perfect,  according  to  the  diameter  of  the  gir 
dle.  The  bezel  facets  are  mathematically  cor 
rect  to  the  minutest  fraction — thirty-three, 
including  the  table.  The  facets  on  the  collet 
side  are  equally  exact — twenty-five,  including 
the  collet,  or  fifty-eight  facets  in  all.  As  I 
said,  the  color  is  flawless.  In  other  words," 
he  continued  without  hesitation,  "I  should  say, 
speaking  as  an  expert,  that  it  is  the  most  per 
fect  diamond  existing  in  the  world  to-day." 

Mr.  Latham  had  been  staring  at  him  mute 
ly,  and  he  still  sat  silent  for  an  instant  after 
Mr.  Czenki  had  finished. 

"And  its  value?"  he  asked  at  last. 

"Its  value !"  Mr.  Czenki  repeated  musingly. 
"You  know,  Mr.  Latham,"  he  went  on  sud 
denly,  "there  are  a  hundred  experts,  commis 
sioned  by  royalty,  scouring  the  diamond 
markets  of  the  world  for  such  stones  as  this. 
So,  if  you  are  looking  for  a  sale  and  a  price, 
11 


by  all  means  offer  it  abroad  first."  He  lifted 
the  sparkling,  iridescent  jewel  from  the  box 
again,  and  gazed  at  it  reflectively.  "There  is 
not  one  stone  belonging  to  the  British  crown, 
for  instance,  which  would  in  any  way  compare 
with  this." 

"Not  even  the  Koh-i-noor?"  Mr.  Latham 
demanded,  surprised. 

Mr.  Czenki  shook  his  head. 

"Not  even  the  Koh-i-noor.  It  is  larger, 
that's  all — a  fraction  more  than  one  hundred 
and  six  carats,  but  it  has  neither  the  coloring 
nor  the  cutting  of  this."  There  was  a  pause. 
"Would  it  be  impertinent  if  I  ask  who  owns 
this?" 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Mr.  Latham  slowly. 
"I  don't  know;  but  it  isn't  ours.  Perhaps 
later  I'll  be  able  to—" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  the  expert  inter 
rupted  courteously,  and  there  was  a  slight 


THE    FIRST    DIAMOND 

expression  of  surprise  on  his  thin  scarred  face. 
"Is  that  all?" 

Mr.    Latham    nodded    absently    and    Mr. 
Czenki  left  the  room. 


13 


CHAPTER  II 

TWEEDLEDUM  AND  TWEEDLEDEE 

ALITTTLE  while  later,  when  Mr.  Latham 
started  out  to  luncheon,  he  thrust  the 
white  glazed  box  into  an  inside  pocket.  It 
had  occurred  to  him  that  Schultze — Gustave 
Schultze,  the  greatest  importer  of  precious 
stones  in  America — was  usually  at  the  club 
where  he  had  luncheon,  and — 

He  found  Mr.  Schultze,  a  huge  blond  Ger 
man,  sitting  at  a  table  in  an  alcove,  alone, 
gazing  out  upon  Fifth  Avenue  in  deep  ab 
straction,  with  perplexed  wrinkles  about  his 
blue  eyes.  The  German  glanced  around  at 
Latham  quickly  as  he  proceeded  to  draw  out  a 
chair  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  table. 


TWEEDLEDUM  AND  TWEEDLEDEE 

"Sid  down,  Laadham,  sid  down,"  he  invited 
explosively.  "I  haf  yust  send  der  vaiter  to 
der  delephone  to  ask — " 

There  was  a  restrained  note  of  excitement 
in  the  German's  voice,  but  at  the  moment  it 
was  utterly  lost  upon  Mr.  Latham. 

"Schultze,  you've  probably  imported  more 
diamonds  in  the  last  ten  years  than  any  other 
half-dozen  men  in  the  United  States,"  he  in 
terrupted.  "I  have  something  here  I  want 
you  to  see.  Perhaps,  at  some  time,  it  may 
have  passed  through  your  hands." 

He  placed  the  glazed  box  on  the  table.  For 
an  instant  the  German  stared  at  it  with: 
amazed  eyes,  then  one  fat  hand  darted  toward 
it,  and  he  spilled  the  diamond  out  on  the  nap 
kin  in  his  plate.  Then  he  sat  gazing  as  if 
fascinated  by  the  lambent,  darting  flashes 
deep  from  the  blue-white  heart. 

"Mein  Gott,  Laadham!"  he  exclaimed,  and 
15 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

with  fingers  which  shook  a  little  he  lifted  the 
stone  and  squinted  through  it  toward  the 
light,  with  critical  eyes.  Mr.  Latham  was 
leaning  forward  on  the  table,  waiting,  watch 
ing,  listening. 

"Well  ?"  he  queried  impatiently,  at  last. 

"Laadham,  id  is  der  miracle !"  Mr.  Schultze 
explained  solemnly,  with  his  characteristic, 
whimsical  philosophy.  "I  haf  der  dupligade 
of  id,  Laadham — der  dwin,  der  liddle  brudder. 
Zee  here !" 

From  an  inner  pocket  he  produced  a  glazed 
white  box,  identical  with  that  which  Mr.  La 
tham  had  just  set  down,  then  carefully  laid 
the  cover  aside. 

"Look,  Laadham,  look !" 

Mr.  Latham  looked — and  gasped!  Here 
was  the  counterpart  of  the  mysterious  dia 
mond  which  still  lay  in  Mr.  Schultze's  out 
stretched  palm. 

16 


TWEEDLEDUM  AND  TWEEDLEDEE 

"Dey  are  dwins,  Laadham,"  remarked  the 
German  quaintly,  finally.  "Id  came  by  der 
mail  in  dis  morning — yust  like  das,  wrapped 
in  paper,  but  mit  no  marks,  no  name,  no  nod- 
ings.  Id  yust  came !" 

With  his  right  hand  Mr.  Latham  lifted  the 
duplicate  diamond  from  its  cotton  bed,  and 
with  his  left  took  the  other  from  the  German's 
hand.  Then,  side  by  side,  he  examined  them ; 
color,  cutting,  diameter,  depth,  all  seemed  to 
be  the  same. 

"Dwins,  I  dell  you,"  repeated  Mr.  Schultze 
stolidly.  "Dweedledum  und  Dweedledee,  born 
of  der  same  mudder  und  fadder.  Laadham, 
id  iss  der  miracle !  Dey  are  der  most  beaudi- 
ful  der  world  in — yust  der  pair  of  dem." 

"Have  you  made,"  Mr.  Latham  began,  and 
there  was  an  odd,  uncertain  note  in  his  voice — 
"Have  you  made  an  expert  examination?" 

"I  haf.  I  measure  him,  der  deepness,  der 
17 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

cudding,  der  facets,  und  id  iss  perfect.  Und 
I  take  my  own  judgment  of  a  diamond,  Laad- 
ham,  before  any  man  der  vorld  in  but  Czenki." 

"And  the  weight?" 

"Prezizely  six  und  d'ree-sixdeendh  carads. 
Dere  iss  nod  more  as  a  difference  of  a  d'irty- 
second  bedween  dem." 

Mr.  Latham  regarded  the  importer  stead 
ily,  the  while  he  fought  back  an  absurd,  nerv 
ous  thrill  in  his  voice. 

"There  isn't  that  much,  Schultze.  Their 
weight  is  exactly  the  same." 

For  a  long  time  the  two  men  sat  staring  at 
each  other  unseeingly.  Finally  the  German, 
with  a  prodigious  Teutonic  sigh,  replaced  the 
diamond  from  Mr.  .Latham's  right  hand  in  one 
of  the  glazed  boxes  and  carefully  stowed  it 
away  in  a  cavernous  pocket ;  Mr.  Latham  me 
chanically  disposed  of  the  other  in  the  same 
manner. 

18 


TWEEDLEDUM  AND  TWEEDLEDEE 

"Whose  are  they?"  he  demanded  at  length. 
"Why  are  they  sent  to  us  like  this,  with  no 
name,  no  letter  of  explanation?  Until  I  saw 
the  stone  you  have  I  had  believed  this  other 
had  been  sent  to  me  by  some  careless  fool  for 
setting,  perhaps,  and  that  a  letter  would  fol 
low  it.  I  merely  brought  it  here  on  the  chance 
that  it  was  one  of  your  importations  and  that 
you  could  identify  it.  But  since  you  have 
received  one  under  circumstances  which  seem 
to  be  identical,  now —  He  paused  help 
lessly.  "What  does  it  mean?" 

Mr.  Schultze  shrugged  his  huge  shoulders 
and  thoughtfully  flicked  the  ashes  from  his 
cigar  into  the  consomme. 

"You  know,  Laadham,"  he  said  slowly, 
"dey  don't  pick  up  diamonds  like  dose  on  der 
streed  gorners.  I  didn't  believe  dere  vas  a 
stone  of  so  bigness  in  der  Unided  States  whose 
owner  I  didn't  know  id  vas.  Dose  dat  are  here 
19 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

I  haf  bring  in  myself,  mostly — dose  I  did  nod 
I  haf  kept  drack  of.  I  don'd  know,  Laadham, 
I  don'd  know.  Der  longer  I  lif  der  more  I 
don'd  know." 

The  two  men  completed  a  scant  luncheon 
in  silence. 

"Obviously,"  remarked  Mr.  Latham  as  he 
laid  his  napkin  aside,  "the  diamonds  were  sent 
to  us  by  the  same  person ;  obviously  they  were 
sent  to  us  with  a  purpose;  obviously  we  will, 
in  time,  hear  from  the  person  who  sent  them ; 
obviously  they  were  intended  to  be  perfectly 
matched ;  so  let's  see  if  they  are.  Come  to  my 
office  and  let  Czenki  examine  the  one  you 
have."  He  hesitated  an  instant.  "Suppose 
you  let  me  take  it.  We'll  try  a  little  experi 
ment." 

He  carefully  placed  the  jewel  which  the 
German  handed  to  him,  in  an  outside  pocket, 
and  together  they  went  to  his  office.  Mr. 
20 


TWEEDLEDUM  AND  TWEEDLEDEE 

Czenki  appeared,  in  answer  to  a  summons,  and 
Mr.  Latham  gave  him  the  German's  box. 

"That's  the  diamond  you  examined  for  me 
this  morning,  isn't  it  ?"  he  inquired. 

Mr.  Czenki  turned  it  out  into  his  hand  and 
scrutinized  it  perfunctorily. 

"Yes,"  he  replied  after  a  moment. 

"Are  you  quite  certain?"  Mr.  Latham  in 
sisted. 

Something  in  the  tone  caused  Mr.  Czenki 
to  raise  his  beady  black  eyes  questioningly  for 
an  instant,  after  which  he  walked  over  to  a 
window  and  adjusted  his  magnifying  glass 
again.  For  a  moment  or  more  he  stood  there, 
then: 

"It's  the  same  stone,"  he  announced  posi 
tively. 

"Id  iss  der  miracle,  Laadham,  when  Czenki 
make  der  misdake !"  the  German  exploded 
suddenly.  "Show  him  der  odder  von." 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

Mr.  Czenld  glanced  from  one  to  the  other 
with  quick,  inquisitive  glance;  then,  without 
a  word,  Mr.  Latham  produced  the  second  box 
and  opened  it.  The  expert  stared  incredu 
lously  at  the  two  perfect  stones  and  finally, 
placing  them  side  by  side  on  a  sheet  of  paper, 
returned  to  the  window  and  sat  down.  Mr. 
Latham  and  Mr.  Schultze  stood  beside  him, 
looking  on  curiously  as  he  turned  and  twisted 
the  jewels  under  his  powerful  glass. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,"  asked  Mr.  Latham 
pointedly  at  last,  "you  would  not  venture  to 
say  which  of  those  stones  it  was  you  exam 
ined  this  morning,  would  you  ?" 

"No,"  responded  Mr.  Czenki  curtly,  "not 
without  weighing  them." 

"And  if  the  weight  is  identical  ?" 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Czenki  again.  "If  the 
weight  is  the  same  there  is  not  the  minutest 
fraction  of  a  difference  between  them." 


CHAPTER   III 

THURSDAY    AT    THREE 

MR.  LATHAM  ran  through  his  after 
noon  mail  with  feverish  haste  and 
found — nothing;  Mr.  Schultze  achieved  the 
same  result  more  ponderously.  On  the  follow 
ing  morning  the  mail  still  brought  nothing. 
About  eleven  o'clock  Mr.  Latham's  desk 
telephone  rang. 

"Come  to  my  offiz,"  requested  Mr.  Schultze, 
in  guttural  excitement.  "Mem  Gott,  Laad- 
ham,  der — come  to  my  offiz,  Laadham,  und 
bring  der  diamond!" 

Mr.  Latham  went.  Including  himself, 
there  were  the  heads  of  the  five  greatest  jewel 
establishments  in  America,  representing,  per- 
23 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

haps,  one-tenth  of  the  diamond  trade  of  the 
country,  in  Mr.  Schultze's  office.  He  found 
the  other  four  gathered  around  a  small  table, 
and  on  this  table — Mr.  Latham  gasped  as  he 
looked — lay  four  replicas  of  the  mysterious 
diamond  in  his  pocket. 

"Pud  id  down  here,  Laadham,"  directed 
Mr.  Schultze.  "Dey're  all  dwins  alike — 
Dweedledums  und  Dweedledeeses." 

Mr.  Latham  silently  placed  the  fifth  dia 
mond  on  the  table,  and  for  a  minute  or  more 
the  five  men  stood  still  and  gazed,  first  at  the 
diamonds,  then  at  one  another,  and  then  again 
at  the  diamonds.  Mr.  Solomon,  the  crisply 
spoken  head  of  Solomon,  Berger  and  Com 
pany,  broke  the  silence. 

"These  all  came  yesterday  morning  by 
mail,  one  to  each  of  us,  just  as  the  one  came 
to  you,"  he  informed  Mr.  Latham.  "Mr.  Har 
ris  here,  of  Harris  and  Blacklock,  learned  that 


I  had  received  such  a  stone,  and  brought  the 
one  he  had  received  for  comparison.  We  made 
some  inquiries  together  and  found  that  a 
duplicate  had  been  received  by  Mr.  Stoddard, 
of  Hale-Stoddard-Higginson.  The  three  of 
us  came  here  to  see  if  Mr.  Schultze  could  give 
us  any  information,  and  he  telephoned  for 
you." 

Mr.  Latham  listened  blankly. 

"It's  positively  beyond  belief,"  he  burst 
out.  "What — what  does  it  mean  ?" 

"Id  means,"  the  German  importer  answered 
philosophically,  "dat  if  diamonds  like  dese 
keep  popping  up  like  dis,  dat  in  anoder  d'ree 
months  dey  vill  nod  be  vorth  more  as  five 
cents  a  bucketful." 

The  truth  of  the  observation  came  to  the 
four  others  simultaneously.  Hitherto  there 
had  been  only  the  sense  of  wonder  and  ad 
miration;  now  came  the  definite  knowledge 
25 


that  diamonds,  even  of  such  great  size  and 
beauty  as  these,  would  grow  cheap  if  they 
were  to  be  picked  out  of  the  void ;  and  realiza 
tion  of  this  astonishing  possibility  brought 
five  shrewd  business  brains  to  a  unit  of  investi 
gation.  First  it  was  necessary  to  find  how 
many  other  jewelers  had  received  duplicates; 
then  it  was  necessary  to  find  whence  they 
came.  A  plan  was  adopted,  and  an  investiga 
tion  ordered  to  begin  at  once. 

"Dere  iss  someding  back  of  id,  of  course," 
declared  Mr.  Schultze.  "Vas  iss?  Dey  are 
nod  being  send  for  our  healdh !" 

During  the  next  six  days  half  a  score  of 
private  detectives  were  at  work  on  the  mys 
tery,  with  the  slender  clews  at  hand.  They 
scanned  hotel  registers,  quizzed  paper-box 
manufacturers,  pestered  stamp  clerks,  bedev 
iled  postal  officials,  and  the  sum  total  of  their 
knowledge  was  negative,  save  in  the  fact  that 

26 


THURSDAY    AT    THREE 

they  established  beyond  question  that  only 
these  five  men  had  received  the  diamonds. 

And  meanwhile  the  heads  of  the  five  great 
est  jewel  houses  in  New  York  were  assiduous 
in  their  search  for  that  copperplate  super 
scription  in  their  daily  mail.  On  the  morning 
of  the  eighth  day  it  came.  Mr.  Latham  was 
nervously  shuffling  his  unopened  personal  cor 
respondence  when  he  came  upon  it — a  formal 
white  square  envelope,  directed  by  that  same 
copperplate  hand  which  had  directed  the 
boxes.  He  dropped  into  his  chair,  and  opened 
the  envelope  with  eager  fingers.  Inside  was 
this  letter: 

MY  DEAR  SIR  : 

One  week  ago  I  took  the  liberty  of  sending 
to  you,  and  to  each  of  four  other  leading 
jewelers  of  this  city  whose  names  you  know, 
a  single  large  diamond  of  rare  cutting  and 
color.  Please  accept  this  as  a  gift  from  me, 
and  be  good  enough  to  convey  my  compli- 

27 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

merits  to  the  other  four  gentlemen,  and  assure 
them  that  theirs,  too,  were  gifts. 

Believe  me,  I  had  no  intention  of  making  a 
mystery  of  this.  It  was  necessary  definitely  to 
attract  your  attention,  and  I  could  conceive  of 
no  more  certain  way  than  in  this  manner.  In 
return  for  the  value  of  the  jewels  I  shall  ask 
that  you  and  the  four  others  concerned  give 
me  an  audience  in  your  office  on  Thursday 
afternoon  next  at  three  o'clock ;  that  you  make 
known  this  request  to  the  others;  and  that 
three  experts  whose  judgment  you  will  all 
accept  shall  meet  with  us. 

I  believe  you  will  appreciate  the  necessity 
of  secrecy  in  this  matter,  for  the  present  at 
least.  Respectfully, 

E.  VAN  CORTLANDT  WYNNE. 


They  were  on  hand  promptly,  all  of  them — 
Mr.  Latham,  Mr.  Schultze,  Mr.  Solomon,  Mr. 
Stoddard  and  Mr.  Harris.  The  experts 
agreed  upon  were  the  unemotional  Mr.  Czenki, 
Mr.  Cawthorne,  an  Englishman  in  the  employ 
of  Solomon,  Berger  and  Company,  and  Mr. 
28 


THURSDAY    AT    THREE 

Schultze,  who  gravely  admitted  that  he  was 
the  first  expert  in  the  land,  after  Mr.  Czenki, 
and  whose  opinion  of  himself  was  unanimously 
accepted  by  the  others.  The  meeting  place 
was  the  directors'  room  of  the  H.  Latham 
Company. 

At  one  minute  of  three  o'clock  a  clerk  en 
tered  with  a  card,  and  handed  it  to  Mr. 
Latham. 

"'Mr.  E.  van  Cortlandt  Wynne,'"  Mr. 
Latham  read  aloud,  and  every  man  in  the  room 
moved  a  little  in  his  chair.  Then :  "Show  him 
in  here,  please." 

"Now,  gendlemens,"  observed  Mr.  Schultze 
sententiously,  "ve  shall  zee  vat  ve  shall  zee." 

The  clerk  went  out  and  a  moment  later  Mr. 
Wynne  appeared.  He  was  tall  and  rather 
slender,  alert  of  eyes,  graceful  of  person; 
perfectly  self-possessed  and  sure  of  himself, 
yet  without  one  trace  of  egotism  in  manner  or 
29 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

appearance — a  fair  type  of  the  brisk,  courte 
ous  young  business  man  of  New  York.  He 
wore  a  tweed  suit,  and  in  his  left  hand  carried 
a  small  sole-leather  grip.  For  an  instant  he 
stood,  framed  by  the  doorway,  meeting  the 
sharp  scrutiny  of  the  assembled  jewelers  with 
a  frank  smile.  For  a  little  time  no  one  spoke 
— merely  gazed — and  finally: 

"Mr.  Latham?"  queried  Mr.  Wynne,  look 
ing  from  one  to  the  other. 

Mr.  Latham  came  to  his  feet  with  a  sudden 
realization  of  his  responsibilities  as  a  tem 
porary  host,  and  introductions  followed.  Mr. 
Wynne  passed  along  one  side  of  the  table, 
shaking  hands  with  each  man  in  turn  until  he 
came  to  Mr.  Czenki.  Mr.  Latham  introduced 
them. 

"Mr.  Czenki,"  repeated  Mr.  Wynne,  and 
he  allowed  his  eyes  to  rest  frankly  upon  the 
expert  for  a  moment.  "Your  name  has  been 


THURSDAY    AT    THREE 

repeated  to  me  so  often  that  I  almost  feel  as 
if  I  knew  you." 

Mr.  Czenki  bowed  without  speaking. 

"I  am  assuming  that  this  is  the  Mr.  Czenki 
who  was  associated  with  Mr.  Barnato  and  Mr. 
Zeidt  ?"  the  young  man  went  on. 

"That  is  correct,  yes,"  replied  the  expert. 

"And  I  believe,  too,  that  you  once  did  some 
special  work  for  Professor  Henri  Moissan  in 
Paris?" 

Mr.  Czenki's  black  eyes  seemed  to  be  search 
ing  the  other's  face  for  an  instant,  and  then 
he  nodded  affirmatively. 

"I  made  some  tests  for  him,  yes,"  he  volun 
teered. 

Mr.  Wynne  passed  on  along  the  other  side 
of  the  long  table,  and  stopped  at  the  end.  Mr. 
Latham  was  at  his  right,  Mr.  Schultze  at  his 
left,  and  Mr.  Czenki  sat  at  the  far  end,  facing 
him.  The  small  sole-leather  grip  was  on  the 
31 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

floor  at  Mr.  Wynne's  feet.  For  a  moment  he 
permitted  himself  to  enjoy  the  varying  ex 
pressions  of  interest  on  the  faces  around  the 
table. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  began,  then,  "you  all, 
probably,  have  seen  my  letter  to  Mr.  Latham, 
or  at  least  you  are  aware  of  its  contents,  so 
you  understand  that  the  diamonds  which  were 
mailed  to  you  are  your  property.  I  am  not  an 
eleemosynary  institution  for  the  relief  of  dia 
mond  merchants,"  and  he  smiled  a  little,  "for 
the  gifts  are  preliminary  to  a  plain  business 
proposition — a  method  of  concentrating  your 
attention,  and,  in  themselves,  part  payment,  if 
I  may  say  it,  for  any  worry  or  inconvenience 
which  followed  upon  their  appearance.  There 
are  only  five  of  them  in  the  world,  they  are 
precisely  alike,  and  they  are  yours.  I  beg  of 
you  to  accept  them  with  my  compliments." 

Mr.  Schultze  tilted  his  chair  back  a  little, 
32 


THURSDAY    AT    THREE 

the  better  to  study  the  young  man's  coun 
tenance. 

"I  am  going  to  make  some  remarkable 
statements,"  the  young  man  continued,  "but 
each  of  those  statements  is  capable  of  demon 
stration  here  and  now.  Don't  hesitate  to  in 
terrupt  if  there  is  a  question  in  your  mind, 
because  everything  I  shall  say  is  vital  to 
each  of  you  as  bearing  on  the  utter  destruc 
tion  of  the  world's  traffic  in  diamonds.  It  is 
coming,  gentlemen,  it  is  coming,  just  as  inev 
itably  as  that  night  follows  day,  unless  you 
stop  it.  You  can  stop  it  by  concerted  action, 
in  a  manner  which  I  shall  explain  later." 

He  paused  and  glanced  along  the  table. 
Only  the  face  of  Mr.  Czenki  was  impassive. 

"Since  the  opening  of  the  fields  in  South 
Africa,"  Mr.  Wynne  resumed  quietly,  "some 
thing  like  five  hundred  million  dollars'  worth 
of  diamonds  have  been  found  there ;  and  we'll 
33 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

say  arbitrarily  that  all  the  other  diamond 
fields  of  the  world,  including  Brazil  and  Aus 
tralia,  have  produced  another  five  hundred 
million  dollars'  worth — in  other  words,  since 
about  1868  a  billion  dollars'  worth  of  dia 
monds  has  been  placed  upon  the  market.  Gen 
tlemen,  that  represents  millions  and  millions  of 
carats — forty,  fifty,  sixty  million  carats  in 
the  rough,  say.  Please  bear  those  figures  in 
mind  a  moment. 

"Now,  suddenly,  and  as  yet  secretly,  the 
diamond  output  of  the  world  has  been  in 
creased  fifty  fold — that  is,  gentlemen,  within 
the  year  I  can  place  another  billion  dollars' 
worth  of  diamonds,  at  the  prices  that  hold 
now,  in  the  open  market ;  and  within  still  an 
other  year  I  can  place  still  another  billion 
in  the  market ;  and  on  and  on  indefinitely.  To 
put  it  differently,  I  have  found  the  unlimited 
supply." 


THURSDAY    AT    THREE 

"Mem  Gott,  vere  iss  id?"  demanded  the 
German  breathlessly. 

Heedless  of  the  question,  Mr.  Wynne  leaned 
forward  on  the  table,  and  gazed  with  half- 
closed  eyes  into  the  faces  before  him.  In 
credulity  was  the  predominant  expression,  and 
coupled  with  that  was  amazement.  Mr.  Har 
ris,  with  quite  another  emotion  displaying 
itself  on  his  face,  pushed  back  his  chair  as 
if  to  rise;  a  slight  wrinkle  in  his  brow  was 
all  the  evidence  of  interest  displayed  by  Mr. 
Czenki. 

"I  am  not  crazy,  gentlemen,"  Mr.  Wynne 
went  on  after  a  moment,  and  the  perfectly 
normal  voice  seemed  to  reassure  Mr.  Harris, 
for  he  sat  still.  "The  diamonds  are  now  in 
existence,  untold  millions  of  dollars'  worth  of 
them — but  there  is  the  tedious  work  of  cut 
ting.  They're  in  existence,  packed  away  as 
you  pack  potatoes — I  thrust  my  two  hands 
35 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

into  a  bag  and  bring  them  out  full  of  stones 
as  perfect  as  the  ones  I  sent  you." 

He  straightened  up  again  and  the  deep 
earnestness  of  his  face  relaxed  a  little. 

"I  believe  you  said,  Mr.  Wynne,  that  you 
could  prove  any  assertion  you  might  make, 
here  and  now  ?"  suggested  Mr.  Latham  coldly. 
"It  occurs  to  me  that  such  extraordinary 
statements  as  these  demand  immediate  proof." 

Mr.  Wynne  turned  and  smiled  at  him. 

"You  are  quite  right,"  he  agreed ;  and  then, 
to  all  of  them :  "It's  hardly  necessary  to  dwell 
upon  the  value  of  colored  diamonds — the 
rarest  and  most  precious  of  all — the  perfect 
rose-color,  the  perfect  blue  and  the  perfect 
green."  He  drew  a  small,  glazed  white  box 
from  his  pocket  and  opened  it.  "Please  be 
good  enough  to  look  at  this,  Mr.  Czenki." 

He  spun  a  rosily  glittering  object,  some 
three-quarters  of  an  inch  in  diameter,  along 


THURSDAY    AT    THREE 

the  table  toward  Mr.  Czenki.  It  flamed  and 
flashed  as  it  rolled,  with  that  deep  iridescent 
blaze  which  left  no  doubt  of  what  it  was. 
Every  man  at  the  table  arose  and  crowded 
about  Mr.  Czenki,  who  held  a  flamelike  sphere 
in  his  outstretched  palm  for  their  inspection. 
There  was  a  tense,  breathless  instant. 

"It's  a  diamond !"  remarked  Mr.  Czenki,  as 
if  he  himself  had  doubted  it.  "A  deep  rose- 
color,  cut  as  a  perfect  sphere." 

"It's  worth  half  a  million  dollars  if  it's 
worth  a  cent !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Solomon  almost 
fiercely. 

"And  this,  please." 

Mr.  Wynne,  from  the  other  end  of  the  ta 
ble,  spun  another  glittering  sphere  toward 
them — this  as  brilliantly,  softly  green  as  the 
verdure  of  early  spring,  prismatic,  gleaming, 
radiant.  Mr.  Czenki's  beady  eyes  snapped  as 
he  caught  it  and  held  it  out  for  the  others  to 
37 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

see,  and  some  strange  emotion  within  caused 
him  to  close  his  teeth  savagely. 

"And  this !"  said  Mr.  Wynne  again. 

And  a  third  sphere  rolled  along  the  table. 
This  was  blue — elusively  blue  as  a  moonlit 
sky.  Its  rounded  sides  caught  the  light  from 
the  windows  and  sparkled  it  back. 

And  now  the  three  jewels  lay  side  by  side  in 
Mr.  Czenki's  open  hand,  the  while  the  five 
greatest  diamond  merchants  of  the  United 
States  glutted  their  eyes  upon  them.  Mr. 
Latham's  face  went  deathly  white  from  sheer 
excitement,  the  German's  violently  red  from 
the  same  emotion,  and  the  others — there  was 
amazement,  admiration,  awe  in  them.  Mr. 
Czenki's  countenance  was  again  impassive. 


38 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    UNLIMITED    SUPPLY 

IF  YOU  will  all  be  seated  again,  please?" 
requested  Mr.  Wynne,  who  still  stood, 
cool  and  self-certain,  at  the  end  of  the  table. 

The  sound  of  his  voice  brought  a  returning 
calm  to  the  others,  and  they  resumed  their 
seats — all  save  Mr.  Cawthorne,  who  walked 
over  to  a  window  with  the  three  spheres  in  his 
hand  and  stood  there  examining  them  under 
his  glass. 

"You  gentlemen  know,  of  course,  the  nat 
ural  shape  of  the  diamond  in  the  rough?"  Mr. 
Wynne  resumed  questioningly.  "Here  are  a 
dozen  specimens  which  may  interest  you — the 
octahedron,  the  rhombic  dodecahedron,  the 
39 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

triakisoctahedron  and  the  hexakisoctahedron." 
He  spread  them  along  the  table  with  a  sweep 
ing  gesture  of  his  hand,  colorless,  inert  peb 
bles,  ranging  in  size  from  a  pea  to  a  peanut. 
"And  now,  you  ask,  where  do  they  come 
from?" 

The  others  nodded  unanimously. 

"I'll  have  to  state  a  fact  that  you  all  know, 
as  part  answer  to  that  question,"  replied  Mr. 
Wynne.  "A  perfect  diamond  is  a  perfect  dia 
mond,  no  matter  where  it  comes  from — Africa, 
Brazil,  India  or  New  Jersey.  There  is  not 
the  slightest  variation  in  value  if  the  stone  is 
perfect.  That  being  true,  it  is  a  matter  of  no 
concern  to  you,  as  dealers,  where  these  come 
from — sufficient  it  is  that  they  are  here,  and, 
being  here,  they  bring  home  to  you  the  neces 
sity  of  concerted  action  to  uphold  the  diamond 
as  a  thing  of  value." 

"You  said  der  vorld's  oudpud  had  been  in- 
40 


THE    UNLIMITED    SUPPLY 

creased  fifty  fold?"  suggested  Mr.   Schultze. 
"Do  ve  understand  you  prove  him  by  dese?" 

The  young  man  smiled  slightly  and  drew  a 
leather  packet  from  an  inner  pocket.  He 
stripped  it  of  several  rubber  bands,  and  then 
turned  to  Mr.  Czenki  again. 

"Mr.  Czenki,  I  have  been  told  that  a  few 
years  ago  you  had  an  opportunity  of  examin 
ing  the  Koh-i-noor.  Is  that  correct?" 

"Yes." 

"I  believe  the  Koh-i-noor  was  temporarily 
removed  from  its  setting,  and  that  you  were 
one  of  three  experts  to  whom  was  intrusted  the 
task  of  selecting  four  stones  of  the  identical 
coloring  to  be  set  alongside  it?" 

"That  is  correct,"  Mr.  Czenki  agreed. 

"You  held  the  Koh-i-noor  in  your  hand, 
and  you  would  be  able  to  identify  it?" 

"/  would  be  able  to  identify  it,"  said  Mr. 
Cawthorne  positively. 

41 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

He  had  turned  at  the  window  quickly;  it 
was  the  first  time  he  had  spoken.  Mr.  Wynne 
walked  around  the  table  to  Mr.  Czenki,  and 
Mr.  Cawthorne  approached  them. 

"Suppose,  then,  you  gentlemen  examine  this 
together,"  suggested  Mr.  Wynne. 

He  lifted  a  great  glittering  jewel  from  the 
leather  packet  and  held  it  aloft  that  all  might 
see.  Then  he  carefully  placed  it  on  the  table 
in  front  of  the  experts;  the  others  came  to 
their  feet  and  stood  gazing  as  if  fascinated. 

"By  Jove!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Cawthorne. 

For  a  minute  or  more  the  two  experts  stud 
ied  the  huge  diamond — one  hundred  and  six 
carats  and  a  fraction — beneath  their  glasses, 
and  finally  Mr.  Cawthorne  picked  it  up  and 
led  the  way  toward  the  window.  Mr.  Czenki 
and  the  German  followed  him. 

"Gentlemen,"  and  Mr.  Cawthorne  now 
turned  sharply  to  face  the  others,  "this  is  the 
42 


THE    UNLIMITED    SUPPLY 

Koh-i-noor!  Mr.  Czenki  didn't  mention  it, 
but  I  was  one  of  the  three  experts  who  had 
opportunity  to  examine  the  Koh-i-noor.  This 
is  the  Koh-i-noor !" 

Startled,  questioning  eyes  were  turned  upon 
Mr.  Wynne;  he  was  smiling.  There  was  a 
question  in  his  face  as  he  regarded  Mr. 
Czenki. 

"It  is  either  the  Koh-i-noor  or  an  exact 
duplicate,"  said  Mr.  Czenki. 

"It  is  the  Koh-i-noor,"  repeated  Mr.  Caw- 
thorne  doggedly. 

"Id  seems  to  me,"  interposed  Mr.  'Schultze, 
"dat  if  der  Koh-i-noor  vas  missing  somebody 
would  haf  heard,  ain'd  id?  I  haf  nod  heard. 
Mr.  Czenki  made  a  misdake  der  oder  day — 
maybe  you  make  id  to-day?" 

"You  have  made  a  mistake,  I  assure  you, 
Mr.  Cawthorne,"  remarked  Mr.  Wynne  quiet 
ly.  "You  identify  that  as  the  Koh-i-noor,  of 
43 


course,  by  a  slight  inaccuracy  in  one  of  the 
facets  adjoining  the  collet.  That  inaccuracy 
is  known  to  every  diamond  expert — the  mis 
take  you  make  is  a  compliment  to  that  as  a 
replica." 

He  resumed  his  position  at  the  end  of  the 
table,  and  Mr.  Schultze  sat  beside  him.  Amaze 
ment  was  a  thing  of  the  past,  as  far  as  he  was 
concerned.  Mr.  Czenki  dropped  into  his  chair 
again. 

"And  now,  Mr.  Czenki,  speaking  as  an  ex 
pert,  what  would  you  say  was  the  most  per 
fect  diamond  in  the  world?"  asked  Mr. 
Wynne. 

"The  five  blue-white  stones  you  mailed  to 
these  gentlemen,"  replied  the  expert  without 
hesitation. 

"Perhaps  I  should  have  specified  the  most 
perfect    diamond    known    to    the    world    at 
large,"  Mr.  Wynne  added  smilingly. 
44 


THE    UNLIMITED    SUPPLY 

"The  Regent." 

Again  Mr.  Cawthorne  looked  around,  with 
bewilderment  in  his  eyes.  The  others  nodded 
their  approval  of  Mr.  CzenM's  opinion. 

"The  Regent,  yes,"  Mr.  Wynne  agreed; 
"one  hundred  and  thirty-six  and  three-quarter 
carats,  cut  as  a  brilliant,  worn  by  Napoleon  in 
his  sword-hilt,  now  in  the  Louvre  at  Paris,  the 
property  of  the  French  Government — valued 
at  two  and  a  half  million  dollars."  His  hand 
disappeared  into  the  leather  packet  again; 
poised  on  his  finger-tips,  when  he  withdrew 
them,  was  another  huge  jewel.  He  dropped  it 
into  Mr.  Schultze's  hand.  "There  is  further 
proof  that  the  diamond  output  has  increased 
fiftyfold." 

Mr.  Schultze  seemed  dazed  as  he  turned  and 
twisted  the  diamond  in  his  hand.  After  a  mo 
ment  he  passed  it  on  down  the  table  without  a 
word. 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"A  duplicate  also,"  and  Mr.  Wynne  glanced 
at  Mr.  Cawthorne.  "It  is  reasonably  certain 
that  you  would  have  heard  of  that  if  it  had 
disappeared  from  the  Louvre."  He  turned  to 
Mr.  Schultze  again.  "I  may  add  that  this 
fiftyfold  increase  in  output  is  not  confined  to 
small  stones,"  he  went  on  tauntingly.  "They 
are  of  all  sizes  and  values.  For  instance?" 

He  lifted  still  another  j  ewel  from  the  packet 
and  held  it  aloft  for  an  instant. 

"The  Orloff !"  gasped  Mr.  Solomon. 

"No,"  the  young  man  corrected ;  "this,  too, 
is  a  duplicate.  The  original  is  in  the  Russian 
sceptre.  This  is  a  replica — color,  weight  and 
cutting  being  identical — one  hundred  and 
ninety-three  carats,  nearly  as  large  as  a 
pigeon's  egg." 

Again  Mr.  Wynne  glanced  along  the  table. 
Suddenly  the  frank  amazement  had  vanished 
from  the  faces  of  these  men,  and  he  found 
46 


THE    UNLIMITED    SUPPLY 

only  the  tense  interest  of  an  audience  watch 
ing  a  clever  juggler.  For  a  time  Mr.  Schultze 
studied  the  Orloff  duplicate,  then  passed  it 
along  to  the  experts. 

"Der  gread  Cullinan  diamond  weighs  only 
two  or  d'ree  pounds,"  he  questioned  in  a  tone 
of  deep  resignation.  "Maybe  you  haf  Mm  in 
der  backage,  alretty?" 

"Not  yet,"  replied  Mr.  Wynne,  "but  I  may 
possibly  get  that  on  my  next  trip  out.  Who 
knows  ?" 

There  was  a  long,  tense  silence.  Mechani 
cally  Mr.  Czenki  placed  the  three  spheres  and 
the  replicas  in  an  orderly  little  row  on  the  ta 
ble  in  front  of  him  and  the  uncut  stones  beside 
them — six,  seven,  eight  million  dollars'  worth 
of  diamonds. 

"Gentlemen,  are  you  convinced?"  demanded 
Mr.  Wynne  suddenly.  "Is  there  one  linger 
ing  doubt  in  any  mind  here  as  to  the  tremen- 
47 


ItHE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

dous  find  which  makes  the  production  of  all 
those  possible?" 

"Id  iss  der  miracle,  Mr.  Vynne,"  admitted 
the  German  gravely,  after  a  little  pause. 
"Dere  iss  someding  before  us  as  nefer  vas  in 
der  vorld.  I  am  gonvinced!" 

"Up  to  this  moment,  gentlemen,  the  De 
Beers  Syndicate  has  controlled  the  diamond 
market,"  Mr.  Wynne  announced,  "but  now, 
from  this  moment,  I  control  it.  I  hold  it  there, 
in  the  palm  of  my  hand,  with  the  unlimited 
supply  back  of  me.  I  am  offering  you  an 
opportunity  to  prevent  the  annihilation  of  the 
market.  It  rests  with  you.  If  I  turn  loose 
a  billion  dollars'  worth  of  diamonds  within  the 
year  you  are  ruined — all  of  you.  You  know 
that — it's  hardly  necessary  to  tell  you.  And, 
gentlemen,  I  don't  care  to  do  it." 

"What  is  your  proposition?"  queried  Mr. 
Latham  quietly.  His  face  was  ghastly  white ; 
48 


THE    UNLIMITED    SUPPLY 

haggard  lines,  limned  by  amazement  and  reali 
zation,  were  marked  clearly  on  it.  "What  is 
your  proposition?"  he  repeated. 

"Wait  a  minute,"  interposed  Mr.  Solomon 
protestingly,  and  he  turned  to  the  young  man. 
"The  Syndicate  controls  the  market  by  force 
of  a  reserve  stock  of  ten  or  fifteen  million  dol 
lars.  Do  we  understand  that  you  have  more 
than  these  ready  for  market  now?" 

Mr.  Wynne  stooped  and  lifted  the  small 
sole-leather  grip  which  had  been  unheeded 
on  the  floor.  He  unfastened  the  catch  and 
turned  the  bag  upside  down  upon  the  table. 
When  he  raised  it  again  the  assembled  jew 
elers  gazed  upon  a  spectacle  unknown  and 
undreamed  of  in  the  history  of  the  world — • 
a  great,  glittering  heap  of  diamonds,  flash 
ing,  colorful,  prismatic,  radiant,  bedazzling. 
They  rattled  like  pebbles  upon  the  mahogany 
table  as  they  slipped  and  slid  one  against  an- 
49 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

other,  and  then,  at  rest,  resolved  themselves 
into  a  steady,  multi-colored  blaze  which  was 
almost  blinding. 

"Now,  gentlemen,  on  the  table  before  you 
there  are  about  thirty  million  dollars'  worth 
of  diamonds,"  Mr.  Wynne  announced  calmly. 
"They  are  all  perfect,  every  one  of  them; 
and  they're  mine.  I  know  where  they  come 
from;  you  can't  find  out.  It's  none  of  your 
business.  Are  you  satisfied  now?" 

Mr.  Latham  looked,  looked  until  his  eyes 
seemed  bursting  from  his  head,  and  then,  with 
an  inarticulate  little  cry,  fell  forward  on  the 
table  with  his  face  on  his  arms.  The  German 
importer  came  to  his  feet  with  one  vast  Teu 
tonic  oath,  then  sat  down  again ;  Mr.  Solo 
mon  plunged  his  hand  into  the  blazing  heap 
and  laughed  senselessly.  The  others  were 
silent,  stunned,  overcome.  Mr.  Wynne 
walked  around  the  table  and  replaced  the 
50 


THE    UNLIMITED    SUPPLY 

spheres  and  replicas  in  his  pocket,  after 
which  he  resumed  his  former  position. 

"I  have  stated  my  case,  gentlemen,"  he  con 
tinued  quietly,  very  quietly.  "Now  for  my 
proposition.  Briefly  it  is  this :  For  a  consid 
eration  I  will  destroy  the  unlimited  supply. 
I  will  bind  myself  to  secrecy,  as  you  must; 
I  will  guarantee  that  no  stone  from  the  same 
source  is  ever  offered  in  the  market  or  priv 
ately,  when  you  gentlemen,"  and  his  manner 
was  emphatically  deliberate,  "purchase  from 
me  at  one-half  the  carat  price  you  now  pay 
one  hundred  million  dollars'  worth  of  dia 
monds!" 

He  paused.  There  was  not  a  sound;  no 
one  moved. 

"You  may  put  them  on  the  market  as  you 
may  agree,  slowly,  thus  preventing  any  ma 
terial  fluctuation  in  value,"  he  went  on.  "How 
to  hold  this  tremendous  reserve  secretly  and 
61 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

still  permit  the  operation  of  the  other  diamond 
mines  of  the  world  is  the  great  problem  you 
will  have  to  face." 

He  leaned  over,  picked  up  a  handful  from 
the  heap  and  replaced  them  in  the  leather  bag. 
The  others  he  swept  off  into  it,  then  snapped 
the  lock. 

"I  will  give  you  one  week  to  decide  what 
you  will  do,"  he  said  in  conclusion.  "If  you 
accept  the  proposition,  then  six  weeks  from 
next  Thursday  at  three  o'clock  I  shall  expect 
a  cash  payment  of  ten  million  dollars  for  a 
portion  of  the  stones  now  cut  and  ready ;  with 
in  a  year  all  the  diamonds  will  have  been  deliv 
ered  and  the  transaction  must  be  closed." 
He  hesitated  an  instant.  "I'm  sorry,  gentle 
men,  if  the  terms  seem  hard,  but  I  think,  after 
consideration,  you  will  agree  that  I  have 
done  you  a  favor  by  coming  to  you  instead 
of  going  into  the  market  and  destroying  it. 
52 


THE    UNLIMITED    SUPPLY 

I  will  call  next  Thursday  at  three  for  jour 
answer.  That  is  all.  Good  day !" 

The  door  opened  and  closed  behind  him. 
A  minute,  two  minutes,  three  minutes  passed 
and  no  one  spoke.  At  last  the  German  came 
to  his  feet  slowly  with  a  sigh. 

"Anyhow,  gendlemens,"  he  remarked,  "dat 
young  man  has  a  hell  of  a  lod  of  diamonds, 
ain'd  id?" 


CHAPTER   V 

THE    ASTUTE    MR.    BIRNES 

IT  WAS  a  few  minutes  past  four  o'clock 
when  Mr.  Wynne  strode  through  the  im 
mense  retail  sales  department  of  the  H.  Lath 
am  Company,  and  a  uniformed  page  held  open 
the  front  door  for  him  to  pass  out.  Once  on 
the  sidewalk  the  self-styled  diamond  master 
of  the  world  paused  long  enough  to  pull  on 
his  gloves,  carelessly  chucking  the  small  sole- 
leather  grip  with  its  twenty-odd  million  dol 
lars'  worth  of  precious  stones  under  one  arm ; 
then  he  turned  up  Fifth  Avenue  toward 
Thirty-fourth  Street.  A  sneak  thief  brushed 
past  him,  appraised  him  with  one  furtive 
glance,  then  went  his  way,  seeking  quarry 
more  promising. 


THE    ASTfUTE    MR.    BIRNES 

Simultaneously  with  Mr.  Wynne's  appear 
ance  three  men  whose  watchful  eyes  had  been 
fastened  on  the  doorway  of  the  H.  Latham 
Company  for  something  more  than  an  hour 
stirred.  One  of  them — Frank  Claflin — was 
directly  across  the  street,  strolling  along  idly, 
the  most  purposeless  of  all  in  the  hurrying, 
well-dressed  throng;  another — Steve  Birnes, 
chief  of  the  Birnes  Detective  Agency — ap 
peared  from  the  hallway  of  a  building  ad 
joining  the  H.  Latham  Company,  and  moved 
along  behind  Mr.  Wynne,  some  thirty  feet 
in  the  rear;  the  third — Jerry  Malone — was 
half  a  block  away,  up  Fifth  Avenue,  coming 
slowly  toward  them. 

Mr.  Birnes  adjusted  his  pace  to  that  of  Mr. 
Wynne,  step  for  step,  and  then,  seeming  as 
sured  of  his  safety  from  any  chance  glance, 
ostentatiously  mopped  his  face  with  a  hand 
kerchief,  flirting  it  a  little  to  the  left  as  he 
55 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

replaced  it  in  his  pocket.  Claflin,  across  the 
street,  understood  from  that  that  he  was  to  go 
on  up  Fifth  Avenue  to  Thirty-fourth  Street, 
the  next  intersection,  and  turn  west  to  board 
any  crosstown  car  which  Mr.  Wynne  might 
possibly  take ;  and  a  cabby,  who  had  been  sit 
ting  motionless  on  his  box  down  the  street, 
understood  from  it  that  he  was  to  move  slowly 
along  behind  Mr.  Birnes,  and  be  prepared  for 
an  emergency. 

Half-way  between  Thirty-third  and  Thir 
ty-fourth  Streets,  Jerry  Malone  approached 
and  passed  Mr.  Wynne  without  so  much  as  a 
glance  at  him,  and  went  on  toward  his  chief. 

"Drop  in  behind  here,"  Mr.  Birnes  re 
marked  crisply  to  Malone,  without  looking 
around.  "I'll  walk  on  ahead  and  turn  east 
in  Thirty-fourth  Street  to  nail  him  if  he 
swings  a  car.  Claflin's  got  him  going  west." 

Mr.  Wynne  was  perhaps  some  twenty  feet 
56 


THE    ASTIUTE    MR.    BIRNES 

from  the  corner  of  Thirty-fourth  Street  and 
Fifth  Avenue  when  Mr.  Birnes  passed  him. 
His  glance  lingered  on  the  broad  back  of  the 
chief  reflectively  as  he  swung  by  and  turned 
into  the  cross  street,  after  a  quick,  business 
like  glance  at  an  approaching  car.  Then  Mr. 
Wynne  smiled.  He  paused  on  the  edge  of 
the  curb  long  enough  for  an  automobile  to 
pass,  then  went  on  across  Thirty-fourth 
Street  to  the  uptown  side  and,  turning  flatly, 
looked  Mr.  Birnes  over  pensively,  after  which 
he  leaned  up  against  an  electric-light  pole  and 
scribbled  something  on  an  envelope. 

A  closed  cab  came  wriggling  and  squirm 
ing  up  Fifth  Avenue.  As  it  reached  the  mid 
dle  of  Thirty-fourth  Street  Mr.  Wynne  raised 
his  hand,  and  the  cab  drew  up  beside  him. 
He  said  something  to  the  driver,  opened  the 
door  and  stepped  in.  Mr.  Birnes  smiled  con 
fidently.  So  that  was  it,  eh?  He,  too,  crossed 
57 


Thirty-fourth  Street  and  lifted  his  hand. 
The  cab  which  had  been  drifting  along  be 
hind  him  immediately  came  up. 

"Now,  Jimmy,  get  on  the  job,"  instructed 
Mr.  Birnes,  as  he  stepped  in.  "Keep  that 
chap  in  sight  and  when  he  stops  you  stop." 

Mr.  Wynne's  cab  jogged  along  comfort 
ably  up  the  avenue,  twisting  and  winding  a 
path  between  the  other  vehicles,  the  while  Mr. 
Birnes  regarded  it  with  thoughtful  gaze.  Its 
number  dangled  on  a  white  board  in  the  rear ; 
Mr.  Birnes  just  happened  to  note  it. 

"Grand  Central  Station,  I'll  bet  a  hat,"  he 
mused. 

But  the  closed  cab  didn't  turn  into  Forty- 
second  Street ;  it  went  past,  then  on  past  Del- 
monico's,  past  the  Cathedral,  past  the  Plaza, 
at  Fifty-ninth  Street,  and  still  on  uptown. 
It  was  not  hurrying — it  merely  moved  stead 
ily  ;  but  once  free  of  the  snarl  which  culmin- 
58 


THE    ASTUTE    MR.    BIRNES 

ates  at  the  Fifty-ninth  Street  entrance  to 
Central  Park,  its  speed  was  increased  a  little. 
Past  Sixty-fourth  Street,  Sixty-fifth,  Sixty- 
sixth,  and  at  Sixty-seventh  it  slowed  up  and 
halted  at  the  sidewalk  on  the  far  side. 

"Stop  in  front  of  a  door,  Jimmy,"  directed 
the  detective  hastily. 

Jimmy  obeyed  gracefully,  and  Mr.  Birnes 
stepped  out,  hardly  half  a  block  behind  the 
closed  cab.  He  went  through  an  elaborate 
pretense  of  paying  Jimmy,  the  while  he  re 
garded  Mr.  Wynne,  who  had  also  alighted 
and  was  paying  the  driver.  The  small  sole- 
leather  grip  was  on  the  ground  between  his 
feet  as  he  ransacked  his  pocketbook.  A  set 
tlement  was  reached,  the  cabby  nodded, 
touched  his  horse  with  his  whip  and  continued 
to  jog  on  up  Fifth  Avenue. 

"Now,  he  didn't  order  that  chap  to  come 
back  or  he  wouldn't  have  paid  him,"  the  de- 
59 


tective  reasoned.  "Therefore  he's  close  to 
where  he  is  going." 

But  Mr.  Wynne  seemed  in  no  hurry;  in 
stead  he  stood  still  for  a  minute  gazing  after 
the  retreating  vehicle,  which  fact  made  it  nec 
essary  for  Mr.  Birnes  to  start  a  dispute  with 
Jimmy  as  to  just  how  much  the  fare  should 
be.  They  played  the  scene  admirably;  had 
Mr.  Wynne  been  listening  he  might  even 
have  heard  a  part  of  the  vigorous  argument. 
Whether  he  listened  or  not  he  turned  and 
gazed  straight  at  Mr.  Birnes  until,  finally, 
the  detective  recognized  the  necessity  of  get 
ting  out  of  sight. 

With  a  final  explosion  he  handed  a  bill  to 
Jimmy  and  turned  to  go  up  the  steps  of  the 
house.  He  had  no  business  there,  but  he  must 
do  something. 

Jimmy  turned  the  cab  short  and  went  rat 
tling  away  down  Fifth  Avenue  to  await  orders 
60 


THE   ASTUTE    MR.    BIRNES 

in  the  lee  of  a  corner  a  block  or  so  away. 
And,  meanwhile,  as  Mr.  Wynne  still  stood 
on  the  corner,  Mr.  Birnes  had  to  go  on  up 
the  steps.  But  as  he  placed  his  foot  on  the 
third  step  he  knew — though  he  had  not 
looked,  apparently,  yet  he  knew — that  Mr. 
Wynne  had  raised  his  hand,  and  that  in  that 
hand  was  a  small  white  envelope.  And  fur 
ther,  he  knew  that  Mr.  Wynne  was  gazing 
directly  at  him. 

Now  that  was  odd.  Slowly  it  began  to 
dawn  upon  the  detective  that  Mr.  Wynne 
was  trying  to  attract  his  attention.  If  he 
heeded  the  signal — evidently  it  was  intended 
as  such — it  would  be  a  confession  that  he 
was  following  Mr.  Wynne,  and  realizing  this 
he  took  two  more  steps  up.  Mr.  Wynne 
waved  the  envelope  again,  after  which  he 
folded  it  across  twice  and  thrust  it  into  a 
crevice  of  a  water-plug  beside  him.  Then  he 
61 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

turned  east  along  Sixty-seventh  Street  and 
disappeared. 

The  detective  had  seen  the  performance,  all 
of  it,  and  he  was  perplexed.  It  was  wholly  un 
precedented.  However,  the  first  thing  to  do 
now  was  to  keep  Mr.  Wynne  in  sight,  so  he 
came  down  the  steps  and  walked  rapidly  on  to 
Sixty-seventh  Street,  pausing  to  peer  around 
the  corner  before  he  turned.  Mr.  Wynne  was 
idling  along,  half  a  block  away,  without  the 
slightest  apparent  interest  in  what  was  hap 
pening  behind.  Inevitably  Mr.  Birnes'  eyes 
were  drawn  to  the  water-plug  across  the 
street.  A  tag  end  of  white  paper  gleamed 
tantalizingly.  Now  what  the  deuce  did  it 
mean? 

Being  only  human,  Mr.  Birnes  went  across 
the  street  and  got  the  paper.  It  was  an  en 
velope.  As  he  unfolded  it  and  gazed  at  the 
address,  written  in  pencil,  his  mouth  opened  in 
62 


THE   ASTUTE    MR.    BIRNES 

undignified  astonishment.  It  was  addressed 
to  him — Steven  Birnes,  Chief  of  the  Barnes 
Detective  Agency.  Mr.  Wynne  had  still  not 
looked  back,  so  the  detective  trailed  along  be 
hind,  opening  the  envelope  as  he  walked.  A 
note  inside  ran  briefly : 

My  address  is  No.  —  East  Thirty-seventh 
Street.  If  it  is  necessary  for  you  to  see  me 
please  call  there  about  six  o'clock  this  after 
noon. 

E.   VAN   CORTLANDT  WYNNE. 

Now  here  was,  perhaps,  as  savory  a  kettle 
of  fish  as  Mr.  Birnes  had  ever  stumbled  upon. 
It  is  difficult  to  imagine  a  more  embarrassing 
situation  for  the  professional  sleuth  than  to 
find  himself  suddenly  taken  into  the  confidence 
of  the  person  he  is  shadowing.  But  was  he 
being  taken  into  Mr.  Wynne's  confidence? 
Ah !  That  was  the  question !  Admitting  that 
Mr.  Wynne  knew  who  he  was,  and  admitting 
63 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

that  he  knew  he  was  being  followed,  was  not 
this  apparent  frankness  an  attempt  to  throw 
him  off  the  scent?  He  would  see,  would  Mr. 
Birnes. 

He  quickened  his  pace  a  little,  then  slowed 
up  instantly,  because  Mr.  Wynne  had  stopped 
on  the  corner  of  Madison  Avenue,  and  as  a 
downtown  car  came  rushing  along  he  stepped 
out  to  board  it.  Mr.  Birnes  scuttled  across 
the  street,  and  by  a  dexterous  jump  swung 
on  the  car  as  it  fled  past.  Mr.  Wynne  had 
gone  forward  and  was  taking  a  seat;  Mr. 
Birnes  remained  on  the  back  platform,  shel 
tered  by  the  accommodating  bulk  of  a  fat 
man,  and  flattered  himself  that  Mr.  Wynne 
had  not  seen  him.  By  peering  over  a  huge 
shoulder  the  detective  was  still  able  to  watch 
Mr.  Wynne. 

He  saw  him  pay  his  fare,  and  then  he  saw 
him  place  the  small  sole-leather  grip  on  his 
64 


THE    ASTUTE    MR.    BIRNES 

knees  and  unfasten  the  catch.  Not  knowing 
what  was  in  that  grip  Mr.  Birnes  was  curious 
to  see  what  came  out  of  it.  Nothing  came 
out  of  it — it  was  empty !  There  was  no  ques 
tion  of  this,  for  Mr.  Wynne  opened  it  wide 
and  turned  it  upside  down  to  shake  it  out. 
It  didn't  mean  anything  in  particular  to  Mr. 
Birnes,  the  fact  that  the  grip  was  empty,  so 
he  didn't  get  excited  about  it. 

Mr.  Wynne  left  the  car  at  Thirty-fourth 
Street,  the  south  end  of  the  Park  Avenue 
tunnel,  by  the  front  door,  and  the  detective 
stepped  off  the  rear  end.  Mr.  Wynne 
brushed  past  him  as  he  went  up  the  stairs, 
and  as  he  did  so  he  smiled  a  little — a  very 
little.  He  walked  on  up  Park  Avenue  to 
Thirty-seventh  Street,  turned  in  there  and 
entered  a  house  about  the  middle  of  the  block, 
with  a  latch-key.  The  detective  glanced  at 
the  number  of  the  house,  and  felt  aggrieved 
65 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

— it  was  the  number  that  was  written  in  the 
note!  And  Mr.  Wynne  had  entered  with  a 
key!  Which  meant,  in  all  probability,  that 
he  did  live  there,  as  he  had  said ! 

But  why  did  he  take  that  useless  cab  ride 
up  Fifth  Avenue?  If  he  had  no  objection 
to  any  one  knowing  his  address,  why  did  he 
go  so  far  out  of  his  way  ?  Mr.  Birnes  couldn't 
say.  As  he  pondered  these  questions  he  saw 
a  maid-servant  come  out  of  a  house  adjoin 
ing  that  which  Mr.  Wynne  had  entered,  and 
he  went  up  boldly  to  question  her. 

Did  a  Mr.  Wynne  live  next  door?  Yes. 
How  long  had  he  lived  there?  Five  or  six 
months.  Did  he  own  the  house?  No.  The 
people  who  owned  the  house  had  gone  to 
Europe  for  a  year  and  had  rented  it  fur 
nished.  No,  Mr.  Wynne  didn't  have  a  fam 
ily.  He  lived  there  alone,  except  for  two 
servants,  a  cook  and  a  housemaid.  She  had 
66 


THE    ASTUTE    MR.    BIRNES 

never  noticed  anything  unusual  about  Mr. 
Wynne,  or  the  servants,  or  the  house.  Yes, 
he  went  out  every  day,  downtown  to  business. 
No,  she  didn't  know  what  his  business  was, 
but  she  had  an  idea  that  he  was  a  broker. 
That  was  all. 

From  a  near-by  telephone  booth  the  detec 
tive  detailed  Claflin  and  Malone,  who  had  re 
turned  to  the  office,  to  keep  a  sharp  watch  on 
the  house,  after  which  he  walked  on  to  Fifth 
Avenue,  and  down  Fifth  Avenue  to  the  es 
tablishment  of  the  H.  Latham  Company. 
Mr.  Latham  would  see  him — yes.  In  fact, 
Mr.  Latham,  harried  by  the  events  of  the  past 
two  hours,  bewildered  by  a  hundred-million- 
dollar  diamond  deal  which  had  been  thrust 
down  his  throat  gracefully,  but  none  the  less 
certainly,  and  ridden  by  the  keenest  curi 
osity,  was  delighted  to  see  Mr.  Birnes. 

"I've  got  his  home  address  all  right," 
67 


Mr.  Birnes  boasted,  in  the  beginning.  Of 
course  it  was  against  the  ethics  of  the  pro 
fession  to  tell  how  he  got  it. 

"Progress  already,"  commented  Mr.  La 
tham  with  keen  interest.  "That's  good." 

Then  the  detective  detailed  the  information 
he  had  received  from  the  maid,  adding  thereto 
divers  and  sundry  conclusions  of  his  own. 

Mr.  Latham  marveled  exceedingly. 

"He  tried  to  shake  us  all  right  when  he 
went  out,"  Mr.  Birnes  went  on  to  explain, 
"but  the  trap  was  set  and  there  was  no  es 
cape." 

With  certain  minor  omissions  he  told  of  the 
cab  ride  to  Sixty-seventh  Street,  the  trip 
across  to  a  downtown  car,  and,  as  a  matter 
of  convincing  circumstantial  detail,  added 
the  incident  of  the  empty  gripsack. 

"Empty?"  repeated  Mr.  Latham,  startled. 
"Empty,  did  you  say  ?" 
68 


THE    ASTUTE    MR.    BIRNES 

"Empty  as  a  bass  drum,"  the  detective 
assured  him  complacently.  "He  turned  it 
upside  down  and  shook  it." 

"Then  what,  became  of  them?"  demanded 
Mr.  Latham. 

"Became  of  what?" 

"The  diamonds,  man — what  became  of  the 
diamonds  ?" 

"You  didn't  mention  any  diamonds  to  me 
except  those  five  the  other  day,"  the  detec 
tive  reminded  him  coldly.  "Your  instructions 
were  to  find  out  all  about  this  man — who  he 
is,  what  he  does,  where  he  goes,  and  the  rest. 
This  is  my  preliminary  report.  You  didn't 
mention  diamonds." 

"I  didn't  know  he  would  have  them,"  Mr. 
Latham  exploded  irascibly.  "That  empty 
gripsack,  man — when  he  left  here  he  carried 
millions — I  mean  a  great  quantity  of  dia 
monds  in  it." 

69! 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"A  great  quantity  of  — ,"  the  detective 
began ;  and  then  he  sat  up  straight  in  his 
chair  and  stared  at  Mr.  Latham  in  bewilder 
ment. 

"If  the  gripsack  was  empty  when  he  was 
on  the  car,"  Mr.  Latham  rushed  on  excitedly, 
"then  don't  you  see  that  he  got  rid  of  the  dia 
monds  somehow  from  the  time  he  left  here 
until  you  saw  that  the  gripsack  was  empty? 
How  did  he  get  rid  of  them?  Where  does  he 
keep  them?  And  where  does  he  get  them?" 

Mr.  Birnes  closed  his  teeth  grimly  and  his 
eyes  snapped.  Now  he  knew  why  Mr.  Wynne 
had  taken  that  useless  cab  ride  up  Fifth 
Avenue.  It  was  to  enable  him  to  get  rid  of 
the  diamonds!  There  was  an  accomplice — in 
detective  parlance  the  second  person  is  always 
an  accomplice — in  that  closed  cab!  It  had 
all  been  prearranged;  Mr.  Wynne  had  de 
liberately  made  a  monkey  of  him — Steven 
[TO. 


THE    ASTUTE    MR.    BIRNES 

Birnes!  Reluctantly  the  detective  permitted 
himself  to  remember  that  he  didn't  know 
whether  there  was  anybody  in  that  cab  or  not 
when  Mr.  Wynne  entered  it,  and — and — ! 
Then  he  remembered  that  he  did  know  one 
thing — the  number  of  the  cab! 

He  arose  abruptly,  with  the  light  of  a  great 
determination  in  his  face. 

"Whose  diamonds  were  they?"  he  de 
manded. 

•'They  were  his,  as  far  as  we  know,"  re 
plied  Mr.  Latham. 

"How  much  were  they  worth?" 

Mr.  Latham  looked  him  over  thoughtfully. 

"I  am  not  at  liberty  to  tell  you  that,  Mr. 
Birnes,"  he  said  at  last.  "There  are  a  great 
number  of  them,  and  they  are  worth — they 
are  worth  a  large  sum  of  money.  And  they 
are  all  unset.  That's  enough  for  you  to 
know,  I  think." 

71 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

It  seemed  to  be  quite  enough  for  Mr.  Birnes 
to  know. 

"It  may  be  that  I  will  have  something 
further  to  report  this  evening,"  he  told  Mr. 
Latham.  "If  not,  I'll  see  you  to-morrow, 
here." 

He  went  out.  Ten  minutes  later  he  was 
talking  to  a  friend  in  police  headquarters, 
over  the  telephone.  The  records  there  showed 
that  the  license  for  the  particular  cab  he  had 
followed  had  been  issued  to  one  William 
Johns.  He  was  usually  to  be  found  around 
the  cabstand  in  Madison  Square,  and  lived  in 
Charlton  Street. 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE    MYSTERIOUS    WOMAN 

MR.  BIRNES'  busy  heels  fairly  spurned 
the  pavements  of  Fifth  Avenue  as  he 
started  toward  Madison  Square.  Here  was  a 
long  line  of  cabs  drawn  up  beside  the  curb, 
some  twenty  or  thirty  in  all.  The  fifth  from 
the  end  bore  the  number  he  sought — Mr. 
Birnes  chuckled;  and  there,  alongside  it, 
stood  William  Johns,  swapping  Billingsgate 
with  the  driver  of  a  hansom,  the  while  he  kept 
one  eye  open  for  a  prospective  fare.  It  was 
too  easy !  Mr.  Birnes  paused  long  enough  to 
congratulate  himself  upon  his  marvelous  acu 
men,  and  then  he  approached  the  driver. 

"You  are  William  Johns?"  he  accused  him 

sharply. 

73 


"That's  me,  Cap,"  the  cabby  answered 
readily. 

"A  few  minutes  past  four  o'clock  this  after 
noon  you  went  up  Fifth  Avenue,  and  stopped 
at  the  corner  of  Thirty-fourth  Street  to 
pick  up  a  fare — a  young  man." 

"Yep." 

"You  drove  him  to  the  corner  of  Sixty- 
seventh  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue,"  the  de 
tective  went  on  just  to  forestall  possible 
denials.  "He  got  out  there,  paid  you,  and 
you  went  on  up  Fifth  Avenue." 

"Far  be  it  from  me  to  deceive  you,  Cap," 
responded  the  cabby  with  irritating  levity. 
"I  done  that  same." 

"Who  was  that  man?"  demanded  Mr. 
Birnes  coldly. 

"Search  me!    I  never  seen  him  before." 

The  detective  regarded  the  cabby  with  ac 
cusing  eyes.  Then,  quite  casually,  he  flipped 
74 


THE    MYSTERIOUS    WOMAN 

open  his  coat  and  Johns  caught  a  glimpse  of 
a  silver  shield.  It  might  only  have  been  acci 
dent,  of  course,  still — 

"Now,  Johns,  who  was  the  man  in  the  cab 
when  you  stopped  to  pick  up  the  second  man 
at  Thirty-fourth  Street?" 

"Wrong,  Cap,"  and  the  cabby  grinned. 
"There  wasn't  any  man." 

"Don't  attempt  to  deny — " 

"No  man,  Cap.     It  was  a  woman." 

"A  woman!"  the  detective  repeated.  "A 
woman !" 

"Sure  thing — a  woman,  a  regular  woman. 
And,  Cap,  she  was  a  pippin,  a  peachorino,  a 
beauty  bright,"  he  added  gratuitously. 

Mr.  Birnes  stared  thoughtfully  across  the 
street  for  a  little  while.  So  there  was  a  woman 
in  it!  Mr.  Wynne  had  transferred  the  con 
tents  of  the  gripsack  to  her,  in  a  cab,  on  a 
crowded  thoroughfare,  right  under  his  nose! 
75 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"I  was  a  little  farther  down  the  line  there," 
Johns  went  on  to  explain.  "About  a  quarter 
of  four  o'clock,  I  guess,  she  came  along. 
She  got  in,  after  telling  me  to  drive  slowly 
up  Fifth  Avenue  so  I  would  pass  Thirty- 
fourth  Street  five  minutes  or  so  after  four 
o'clock.  If  a  young  man  with  a  gripsack 
hailed  me  at  the  corner  I  was  to  stop  and  let 
him  get  in;  then  I  was  to  go  on  up  Fifth 
Avenue.  If  I  wasn't  stopped  I  was  to  drive 
on  to  Thirty-fifth  Street,  cut  across  to  Madi 
son  Avenue,  down  to  Thirty-third  Street, 
then  back  to  Fifth  Avenue  and  past  Thirty- 
fourth  Street  again,  going  uptown.  The  guy 
with  the  gripsack  caught  us  first  crack  out 
of  the  box." 

"And  then?"  demanded  the  detective  eag 
erly. 

"I  went  on  up  Fifth  Avenue,  according  to 
sailing  orders,  and  the  guy  inside  stopped 
76 


THE    MYSTERIOUS    WOMAN 

me  at  Sixty-seventh  Street.  He  got  out  and 
gimme  a  five-spot,  telling  me  to  go  a  few 
blocks,  then  turn  and  bring  the  lady  back  to 
the  Sixth  Avenue  <L'  at  Fifty-eighth  Street. 
I  done  it.  That's  all.  She  went  up  the 
steps,  and  that's  the  last  I  seen  of  her." 

"Did  she  carry  a  small  gripsack?" 

"Yep.  It  would  hold  about  as  much  as  a 
high  hat." 

Explicit  as  the  information  was  it  led  no 
where,  apparently.  Mr.  Birnes  readily  un 
derstood  this  much,  yet  there  was  a  chance 
— a  bare  chance — that  he  might  trace  the 
girl  on  the  "L,"  in  which  case — anyway,  it 
was  worth  trying. 

"What  did  she  look  like?  How  was  she 
dressed?"  he  asked. 

"She  had  on  one  of  them  blue  tailor-made 
things  with  a  lid  to  match,  and  a  long  feather 
in  it,"  the  cabby  answered  obligingly.  "She 
77 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

was  pretty  as  a — as  a — she  was  a  beaut,  Cap, 
sort  of  skinny,  and  had  all  sorts  of  hair  on  her 
head — brownish,  goldish  sort  of  hair.  She 
was  about  twenty-two  or  three,  maybe,  and 
— and — Cap,  she  was  the  goods,  that's  all." 

In  the  course  of  a  day  a  thousand  women, 
more  or  less,  answering  that  description  in  a 
general  sort  of  way,  ride  back  and  forth  on 
the  elevated  trains.  Mr.  Birnes  sighed  as  he 
remembered  this;  still  it  might  produce  re 
sults.  Then  came  another  idea. 

"Did  you  happen  to  look  in  the  cab  after 
the  young  woman  left  it?"  he  inquired. 

"No." 

"Had  any  fares  since?" 

"No." 

Mr.  Birnes  opened  the  door  of  the  closed 

cab  and  glanced  in.      Perhaps  there  might 

be  a  stray  glove,  a  handkerchief,  some  more 

definite  clew  than  this  vague  description.   He 

78 


THE    MYSTERIOUS    WOMAN 

scrutinized  the  inside  of  the  vehicle  carefully ; 
there  was  nothing.  Yes,  by  Jingo,  here  was 
something — a  white  streak  under  the  edge  of 
the  cushion  on  the  seat!  Mr.  Birnes'  hope 
ful  fingers  fished  it  out.  It  was  a  white  en 
velope,  sealed  and — and  addressed  to  him! 

If  you  are  as  clever  as  I  imagine  you  are, 
you  will  find  this.  My  address  is  No.  — 
East  Thirty-seventh  Street.  I  shall  be  pleased 
to  see  you  if  you  will  call. 

E.   VAN   CoilTLANDT  WYNNE. 

It  was  most  disconcerting,  really. 


A   WINGED    MESSENGER 

A  SNOW- WHITE  pigeon  dropped  down 
out  of  an  azure  sky  and  settled  on  a  top 
most  girder  of  the  great  Singer  Building.  For 
a  time  it  rested  there,  with  folded  pinions,  in  a 
din  of  clanging  hammers;  and  a  workman  far 
out  on  a  delicately  balanced  beam  of  steel 
paused  in  his  labors  to  regard  the  bird  with 
friendly  eyes.  The  pigeon  returned  the  gaze 
unafraid. 

"Well,  old  chap,  if  I  had  as  little  trouble 
getting  up  here  and  down  again  as  you  do  I 
wouldn't  mind  the  job,"  the  workman  re 
marked  cheerfully. 

The  pigeon  cooed  an  answer.  The  steel 
worker  extended  a  caressing  hand,  whereupon 
80 


A    WINGED    MESSENGER 

the  bird  rose  swiftly,  surely,  with  white  wings 
widely  stretched,  circled  once  over  the  vast 
steel  structure,  then  darted  away  to  the  north. 
The  workman  watched  the  snow-white  speck 
until  it  was  lost  against  the  blue  sky,  then 
returned  to  his  labors. 

Some  ten  minutes  later  Mr.  E  van  Cort- 
landt  Wynne,  sitting  at  a  desk  in  his  Thirty- 
seventh  Street  house,  was  aroused  from  his 
meditations  by  the  gentle  tinkle  of  a  bell. 
He  glanced  up,  arose,  and  went  up  the  three 
flights  of  stairs  to  the  roof.  Half  a  dozen 
birds  rose  and  fluttered  around  him  as  he 
opened  the  trap ;  one  door  in  their  cote  at  the 
rear  of  the  building  was  closed.  Mr.  Wynne 
opened  this  door,  reached  in  and  detached  a 
strip  of  tissue  paper  from  the  leg  of  a  snow- 
white  pigeon.  He  unfolded  it  eagerly ;  on  it 
was  written :  Safe.  I  love  you.  D. 


81 


CHAPTER    VIII 

SOME    CONJECTURES 

MR.  GUSTAVE  SCHULTZE  dropped 
in  to  see  Mr.  Latham  after  luncheon, 
and  listened  with  puckered  brows  to  a  recital 
of  the  substance  of  the  detective's  preliminary 
report,  made  the  afternoon  before. 

"Mr.  Birnes  left  here  rather  abruptly," 
Mr.  Latham  explained  in  conclusion,  "say 
ing  he  would  see  me  again,  either  last  night 
or  to-day.  He  has  not  appeared  yet,  and 
it  may  be  that  when  he  comes  he  will  be  able 
to  add  materially  to  what  we  now  know." 

The  huge  German  sat  for  a  time  with  va 
cant  eyes. 

"Der  gread  question,  Laadham,"  he  ob- 
82 


SOME    CONJECTURES 

served  at  last,  gravely,  "iss  vere  does  Vynne 
ged  dem." 

"I  know  that — I  know  it,"  said  Mr.  La 
tham  impatiently.  "That  is  the  very  question 
we  are  trying  to  solve." 

"Und  if  ve  don'd  solve  him,  Laadham, 
ve'll  haf  to  do  vatever  as  he  says,"  Mr. 
Schultzc  continued  slowly.  "Und  ve  may 
haf  to  do  vatever  as  he  says,  anyhow." 

"Put  one  hundred  million  dollars  into  dia 
monds  in  one  year — just  the  five  of  us?"  de 
manded  the  other.  "It's  preposterous." 

"Id  iss  brebosterous,"  the  German  agreed 
readily ;  "but  das  iss  no  argument."  He  was 
silent  for  a  little  while.  "Vere  does  he  ged 
dem?  Vere  does  he  ged  dem?"  he  repeated 
thoughtfully.  "Do  you  believe,  Laadham, 
it  vould  be  bossible  to  smuggle  in  dwenty, 
d'irty,  ein  hundred  million  dollars  of  dia 
monds  ?" 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"Certainly  not,"  was  the  reply. 

"Den,  if  dey  were  nod  smuggled  in,  dey 
are  somewhere  on  der  records  of  der  Custom 
House,  ain'd  id?" 

Mr.  Latham  snapped  his  fingers  with  a 
sudden  realization  of  this  possibility. 

"Schultze,  I  believe  that  is  our  clew!"  he 
exclaimed  keenly.  "Certainly  they  would 
have  been  listed  by  the  customs  department; 
and  come  to  think  of  it,  the  tariff  on  them, 
would  have  been  enormous,  so  enormous  that 
— that — "  and  he  lost  the  hopeful  tone — 
"so  enormous  that  we  must  have  heard  of  it 
when  it  became  a  matter  of  public  record." 

"Fa7fc,"  Mr.  Schultze  agreed.  "Diamonds 
like  dose  dupligates  of  der  Koh-i-noor,  der 
Orloff  und  der  Regent  could  never  haf  passed 
through  der  Custom  House,  Laadham,  mit- 
oud  attracting  attention,  so?" 

Mr.  Latham  acquiesced  by  a  nod  of  his 
84 


SOME    CONJECTURES 

head ;  Mr.  Schultze  sat  regarding  him  through, 
half-closed  eyelids. 

"Und  if  dey  are  nod  on  der  Custom  House 
records,"  he  continued  slowly,  "und  dey  are 
nod  smuggled  in,  den,  Laadham,  den —  Mein 
Gott,  man,  don'd  you  zee?" 

"See  what?" 

"Den  dey  are  produced  in  dis  country!" 

For  a  minute  or  two  Mr.  Latham  sat  per 
fectly  still,  gazing  into  the  other's  eyes.  First 
he  was  startled,  then  this  gave  way  to  incre 
dulity,  and  at  last  he  shook  his  head. 

"No,"  he  said  flatly.     "No." 

"Laadham,  ve  Amerigans  produce  any- 
ding,"  the  German  went  on  patiently.  "In 
eighdeen  hundred  und  forty-eight  ve  didn't 
know  California  vas  full  of  gold;  und  so  late 
as  eighdeen  hundred  und  ninedy-four  ve 
didn't  know  der  Klondike  vas  full  of  gold. 
Der  greadest  diamond  fields  ve  know  now  are 
85 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

in  Africa,  bud  in  eighdeen  hundred  und  sixty- 
six  ve  didn't  know  id!  Dere  iss  no  reason  ve 
should  nod  produce  diamonds." 

"But  look  here,  Schultze,"  Mr.  Latham 
expostulated,  "it's — it's  unheard  of." 

"So  vas  der  Mizzizzippi  River  until  id  vas 
discovered,"  the  German  argued  complacent 
ly.  "You  are  a  diamond  dealer,  Laadham, 
bud  you  don'd  know  much  aboud  dem  from 
where  dey  come  at.  Iss  Czenki  here?  Send 
for  him.  He  knows  more  aboud  diamonds  as 
any  man  vat  ever  lived." 

Mr.  Latham  sent  an  office  boy  for  Czenki, 
who  a  few  minutes  later  appeared  with  an  in 
quiry  in  his  beady  black  eyes  and  a  nod  of  rec 
ognition  for  Mr.  Schultze. 

"Sid  down,  Mr.  Czenki,"  the  German  in 
vited.  "Sid  down  und  draw  a  long  breath, 
und  den  dell  Mr.  Laadham  here  someding 
aboud  diamonds." 

86 


"What  is  it,  please?"  Mr.  Czenki  asked  of 
Mr.  Latham. 

"Mr.  Czenki,  have  you  any  very  definite 
idea  as  to  where  those  diamonds  came  from?" 
asked  Mr.  Latham. 

"No,"  was  the  unhesitating  response. 

"Is  it  possible  that  they  might  have  been 
found  in  the — in  the  United  States?"  Mr. 
Latham  went  on. 

"Certainly.  They  might  have  been  found 
anywhere." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  were  any  diamonds 
ever  found  in  the  United  States?" 

"Yes,  frequently.  One  very  large  diamond 
was  found  in  1855  at  Manchester,  across  the 
James  River  from  Richmond,  Virginia.  It 
weighed  twenty-four  carats  when  cut,  and  is 
the  largest,  I  believe,  ever  found  in  this  coun- 
try." 

Mr.  Latham  seemed  surprised. 
87. 


"Why,  you  astonish  me,"  he  remarked. 

"Vait  a  minute  und  he'll  astonish  you  some 
more,"  Mr.  Schultze  put  in  confidently. 
"Vere  else  in  der  United  States  haf  diamonds 
been  found,  Czenki?" 

"In  California,  in  North  Carolina,  and  in 
Hall  County,  Georgia,"  replied  the  expert 
readily.  "There  is  good  ground  for  the  belief 
that  the  stone  found  at  Richmond  had  been 
washed  down  from  the  mountains  farther  in 
the  interior,  and,  if  this  is  true,  there  is  a  sub 
stantial  basis  for  the  scientific  hypothesis  that 
diamond  fields  lie  somewhere  in  the  Appala 
chian  Range,  because  the  diamonds  found  in 
both  North  Carolina  and  Georgia  were  adja 
cent  to  these  mountains."  He  paused  a  mo 
ment.  "This  is  all  a  matter  of  record." 

His  employer  was  leaning  forward  in  his 
chair,  gripping  the  arms  fiercely  as  he  stared 
at  him. 

88 


SOME    CONJECTURES 

"Do  you  believe  it  possible,  Mr.  Czenld," 
he  asked  deliberately,  "that  Mr.  Wynne  has 
found  these  diamonds  fields?" 

The  expert  shrugged  his  slender  shoulders. 

"It  is  possible,  of  course,"  he  replied. 
"From  time  to  time  great  sums  of  money  have 
been  spent  in  searching  for  them,  so — "  He 
waved  his  hand  and  was  silent. 

"Zo  you  zee,  Laadham,"  Mr.  Schultze  in 
terpolated,  "ve  don'd  know  anyding  much. 
Ve  know  der  African  fields,  und  der  Austra 
lian  fields,  und  der  Brazilian  fields,  und  der 
fields  in  India,  bud  ve  don'd  know  if  new  fields 
haf  been  found.  By  der  time  you  haf  lived 
so  long  as  me  you  won't  know  any  more  as  I 
do." 

There  was  a  silence  for  a  long  time.  Mr. 
Czenki  sat  with  impassive  face,  and  his  hands 
at  rest  on  the  arms  of  the  chair.  At  last  he 
spoke : 

89 


"If  you'll  pardon  me,  Mr.  Latham,  I  may 
suggest  another  possibility." 

"Vas  issf"  demanded  Mr.  Schultze  quickly. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  of  the  French  scientist, 
Charles  Friedel?"  Mr.  Czenki  asked,  address 
ing  Mr.  Latham. 

"Never,  no." 

"Well,  this  idea  has  occurred  to  me.  Some 
years  ago  he  discovered  two  or  three  small 
diamonds  in  a  meteor.  We  may  safely  as 
sume,  from  the  fact  that  there  were  diamonds 
in  one  meteor,  that  there  may  be  diamonds 
in  other  meteors,  therefore — " 

The  German  importer  anticipated  his  line 
of  thought,  and  arose  with  a  guttural  burst 
of  Teutonic  expletives. 

"Therefore,"  the  expert  went  on  steadily, 
"is  it  not  possible  that  Mr.  Wynne  has  stum 
bled  upon  a  huge  deposit  of  diamonds  in  some 
meteoric  substance  some  place  in  this  country  ? 
90 


SOME    CONJECTURES 

A  meteor  may  have  fallen  anywhere,  of  course, 
and  it  may  have  been  only  two  months  ago,  or 
it  may  have  been  two  thousand  years  ago.  It 
may  even  be  buried  in  his  cellar." 

The  huge  German  nodded  his  head  vigor 
ously,  with  sparkling  eyes. 

"It  seems  extremely  probable  that  if  dia 
mond  fields  had  been  discovered  in  the  Appala 
chian  Range,"  Mr.  Czenki  went  on,  "it 
would  have  become  public  in  spite  of  every 
effort  to  prevent  it;  whereas,  it  is  possible 
that  a  meteor  containing  diamonds  might  have 
been  hidden  away  easily ;  and,  also,  the  pro 
duction  of  diamonds  from  such  a  source  in 
this  country  would  not  make  it  necessary  for 
the  diamonds  to  pass  through  the  Custom 
House.  Is  it  clear,  sir?" 

"Why,  it's  absurd,  fantastic,  chimerical!"1 
Mr.  Latham  burst  out  irritably.    "It's  ridicu 
lous  to  consider  such  a  thing." 
91 


THE   DIAMOND    MASTER 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  Mr.  Czenki  apolo 
gized.  "It  is  only  a  conjecture,  of  course. 
I  may  add  that  I  don't  believe  that  three 
stones  of  the  size  of  the  replicas  which  Mr. 
Wynne  produced  here  could  have  been  found 
anywhere  in  the  world  and  brought  in  here — 
smuggled  in  or  in  the  usual  way — and  the 
secret  held  against  the  thousands  of  men  who 
daily  watch  the  diamond  fields  and  market. 
It  would  not  be  difficult,  however,  if  one  man 
alone  knew  the  source  of  the  stones,  to  keep 
it  from  the  world  at  large.  I  beg  your  par 
don,"  he  added. 

He  arose  as  if  to  go.  Mr.  Schultze 
brought  a  heavy  hand  down  on  the  slim  shoul 
der  of  the  expert,  and  turned  to  Mr.  Latham. 

"Laadham,  you  are  listening  to  der  man 
who  knows  more  as  all  of  us  pud  in  a  crowd," 
he  declared.  "Mein  Gott,  I  do  believe  he's 
right!" 

92 


SOME    CONJECTURES 

Mr.  Latham  was  a  cold,  unimaginative  man 
of  business ;  he  hadn't  even  believed  in  fairies 
when  he  was  a  boy.  This  was  child-talk; 
he  permitted  himself  to  express  his  opinion 
by  a  jerk  of  his  head,  and  was  silent.  Dia 
monds  like  those  out  of  meteors !  Bosh ! 


93 


CHAPTER    IX 

AND  MORE  DIAMONDS! 

r  1 1HERE  was  a  rap  on  the  door,  and  a  clerk 
JL  thrust  his  head  in. 

"Mr.  Birnes  to  see  you,  sir,"  he  an 
nounced. 

"Show  him  in,"  directed  Mr.  Latham.  "Sit 
down,  both  of  you,  and  let's  see  what  he  has 
to  say." 

There  was  an  odd  expression  of  hope  de 
ferred  on  the  detective's  face  when  he  entered. 
He  glanced  inquiringly  at  Mr.  Schultze  and 
Mr.  Czenld,  whereupon  Mr.  Latham  intro 
duced  them. 

"You  may  talk  freely,"  he  added.     "We 
are  all  interested  alike." 
94 


AND    MORE    DIAMONDS 

The  detective  crossed  his  legs  and  balanced 
his  hat  carefully  on  one  knee,  the  while  he 
favored  Mr.  Czenld  with  a  sharp  scrutiny. 
There  was  that  in  the  thin,  scarred  face  and 
in  the  beady  black  eyes  which  inevitably  drew 
the  attention  of  a  stranger,  and  half  a  dozen 
times  as  he  talked  Mr.  Birnes  glanced  at  the 
expert. 

He  retold  the  story  of  the  cab  ride  up 
Fifth  Avenue,  and  the  car  trip  back  down 
town — omitting  embarrassing  details  such  as 
the  finding  of  two  notes  addressed  to  himself 
— dwelt  a  moment  upon  the  empty  gripsack 
which  Mr.  Wynne  carried  on  the  car,  and 
then: 

"When  you  told  me,  Mr.  Latham,  that  the 
gripsack  had  contained  diamonds  when  Mr. 
Wynne  left  here  I  knew  instantly  how  he  got 
rid  of  them.  He  transferred  them  to  some 
person  in  the  cab,  in  accordance  with  a  care- 
95 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

fully  prearranged  plan.  That  person  was  a 
woman !" 

"A  woman?"  Mr.  Latham  repeated,  as  if 
startled. 

"Dere  iss  alvays  wimmins  in  id,"  remarked 
Mr.  Schultze  philosophically.  "Go  on." 

Mr.  Birnes  was  not  at  all  backward  about 
detailing  the  persistence  and  skill  it  had  re 
quired  on  his  part  to  establish  this  fact;  and 
he  went  on  at  length  to  acquaint  them  with 
the  search  that  had  been  made  by  a  dozen  of 
his  men  to  find  a  trace  of  the  woman  from 
the  time  she  climbed  the  elevated  stairs  at 
Fifty-eighth  Street.  He  admitted  that  the 
quest  for  her  had  thus  far  been  fruitless,  as 
suring  them  at  the  same  time  that  it  would 
go  steadily  on,  for  the  present  at  least. 

"And  now,  Mr.  Latham,"  he  went  on,  and 
inadvertently  he  glanced  at  Mr.  Czenki,  "I 
have  been  hampered,  of  course,  by  the  fact 
96 


AND    MORE    DIAMONDS 

that  you  have  not  taken  me  completely  into 
your  confidence  in  this  matter.  I  mean,"  he 
added  hastily,  "that  beyond  a  mere  hint  of 
their  value  I  know  nothing  whatever  about 
the  diamonds  which  Mr.  Wynne  had  in  the 
gripsack.  I  gathered,  however,  that  they 
were  worth  a  large  sum  of  money — perhaps, 
even  a  million  dollars  ?" 

"Yah,  a  million  dollars  ad  leasd,"  remarked 
Mr.  Schultze  grimly. 

"Thank  you,"  and  the  detective  smiled 
shrewdly.  "Your  instructions  were  to  find 
where  he  got  them.  If  there  had  been  a  theft 
of  a  million  dollars'  worth  of  diamonds  any 
where  in  this  world,  I  would  have  known  it; 
so  I  took  steps  to  examine  the  Custom  House 
records  of  this  and  other  cities  to  see  if  there 
had  been  an  unusual  shipment  to  Mr.  Wynne, 
or  to  any  one  else  outside  of  the  diamond 
dealers,  thinking  this  might  give  me  a  clew." 
97 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"And  what  was  the  result?"  demanded  Mr. 
Latham  quickly. 

"My  agents  have  covered  all  the  Atlantic 
ports  and  they  did  not  come  in  through  the 
Custom  House,"  replied  Mr.  Birnes.  "I  have 
not  heard  from  the  western  agents  as  yet,  but 
my  opinion  is — is  that  they  were  perhaps 
smuggled  in.  Smuggling,  after  all,  is  simple 
with  the  thousands  of  miles  of  unguarded 
coasts  of  this  country.  I  don't  know  this,  of 
course ;  I  advance  it  merely  as  a  possibility." 

Mr.  Latham  turned  to  Mr.  Schultze  and 
Mr.  Czenki  with  a  triumphant  smile.  Dia 
monds  in  meteors !  Tommyrot ! 

"Of  course,"  the  detective  resumed,  "the 
whole  investigation  centers  about  this  man 
Wynne.  He  has  been  under  the  eyes  of  my 
agents  as  no  other  man  ever  was,  and  in  spite 
of  this  has  been  able  to  keep  in  correspond 
ence  with  his  accomplices.  And,  gentlemen, 
98 


he  has  done  it  not  through  the  mails,  not  over 
the  telephone,  not  by  telegraph,  and  yet  he 
has  done  it." 

"By  wireless,  perhaps?"  suggested  Mr. 
Czenki.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  spoken, 
and  the  detective  took  occasion  then  and  there 
to  stare  at  him  frankly. 

"And  not  by  wireless,"  he  said  at  last.  "He 
sends  and  receives  messages  from  the  roof  of 
his  house  in  Thirty-seventh  Street  by  homing 
pigeons !" 

"Some  more  fandastics,  eh,  Laadham?" 
Mr.  Schultze  taunted.  "Some  more  chimeri- 
cals?" 

"I  demonstrated  this  much  by  the  close 
watch  I  have  kept  of  Mr.  Wynne,"  the  de 
tective  went  on,  there  being  no  response  to  his 
questioning  look  at  Mr.  Schultze.  "One  of 
my  agents,  stationed  on  the  roof  of  the  house 
adjoining  Mr.  Wynne's"  (it  was  the  maid- 
99 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

servant  next  door)  "has,  on  at  least  one  oc 
casion,  seen  him  remove  a  tissue-paper  strip 
from  a  carrier  pigeon's  leg  and  read  what  was 
written  on  it,  after  which  he  kissed  it,  gentle 
men,  kissed  it;  then  he  destroyed  it.  What 
did  it  mean?  It  means  that  that  particular 
message  was  from  the  girl  to  whom  he  trans 
ferred  the  diamonds  in  the  cab,  and  that  he 
is  madly  in  love  with  her." 

"Oh,  dese  wimmins!  I  dell  you!"  com 
mented  Mr.  Schultze. 

There  was  a  little  pause,  then  Mr.  Birnes 
continued  impressively : 

"This  correspondence  is  of  no  consequence 
in  itself,  of  course.  But  it  gives  us  this: 
Carrier  pigeons  will  only  fly  home,  so  if  Mr. 
Wynne  received  a  message  by  pigeon  it  means 
that  at  some  time,  within  a  week  say,  he  has 
shipped  that  pigeon  and  perhaps  others  from 
the  house  in  Thirty-seventh  Street  to  that 
100 


AND    MORE   DIAMONDS 

person  who  sent  him  the  message.  If  he  sends 
messages  to  that  person  it  means  that  he  has 
received  a  pigeon  or  pigeons  from  that  per 
son  within  a  week.  And  how  were  these 
pigeons  shipped?  In  all  probability,  by  ex 
press.  So,  gentlemen,  you  see  there  ought  to 
be  a  record  in  the  express  offices,  which  would 
give  us  the  home  town,  even  the  name  and  ad 
dress,  of  the  person  who  now  has  the  dia 
monds  in  his  or  her  keeping.  Is  that  clear  to 
all  of  you?" 

"It  is  perfectly  clear,"  commented  Mr. 
Latham  admiringly,  while  the  German  nodded 
his  head  in  approval. 

"And  that  is  the  clew  we  are  working  on  at 
the  moment,"  the  detective  added.  "Three  of 
my  men  are  now  searching  the  records  of  all 
the  express  companies  in  the  city — and  there 
are  a  great  many — for  the  pigeon  shipments. 
If,  as  seems  probable,  this  clew  develops,  it 
101 


THE   DIAMOND    MASTER 

may  be  that  we  can  place  our  hands  on  the 
diamonds  within  a  few  days." 

"I  don'd  d'ink  I  vould  yust  blace  my  hands 
on  dem,"  Mr.  Schultze  advised.  "Dey  are  his 
diamonds,  you  know,  und  your  hands  might 
ged  in  drouble." 

"I  mean  figuratively,  of  course,"  the  de 
tective  amended. 

He  stopped  and  drummed  on  his  stiff  hat 
with  his  fingers.  Again  he  glanced  at  the  im 
passive  face  of  Mr.  Czenki  with  keen,  ques 
tioning  eyes ;  and  for  one  bare  instant  it 
seemed  as  if  he  were  trying  to  bring  his  mem 
ory  to  his  aid. 

"I've  found  out  all  about  this  man  Wynne," 
he  supplemented  after  a  moment,  "but  noth 
ing  in  his  record  seems  to  have  any  bearing 
on  this  case.  He  is  an  orphan.  His  mother 
was  a  Van  Cortlandt  of  old  Dutch  stock,  and 
his  father  was  a  merchant  downtown.  He 


AND    MORE    DIAMONDS 

left  a  few  thousands  to  the  son,  and  the  son 
is  now  in  business  for  himself  with  an  office 
in  lower  Broad  Street.  He  is  an  importer  of 
brown  sugar." 

"Brown  sugar?"  queried  Mr.  Czenki  quick 
ly,  and  the  thin,  scarred  face  reflected  for 
a  second  some  subtle  emotion  within  him. 
"Brown  sugar !"  he  repeated. 

"Yes,"  drawled  the  detective,  with  an  un 
pleasant  stare,  "brown  sugar.  He  imports 
it  from  Cuba  and  Porto  Rico  and  Brazil  by 
the  shipload,  I  understand,  and  makes  a  good 
thing  of  it." 

A  quick  pallor  overspread  Mr.  Czenki's 
countenance,  and  he  arose  with  his  fingers 
working  nervously.  His  beady  eyes  were  glit 
tering;  his  lips  were  pressed  together  until 
they  were  bloodless. 

"Vas  iss?"  demanded  Mr.  Schultze  curi 
ously. 

103 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"My  God,  gentlemen,  don't  you  see?"  the 
expert  burst  out  violently.  "Don't  you  see 
what  this  man  has  done  ?  He  has — he  has — 

Suddenly,  by  a  supreme  effort,  he  regained 
control  of  himself,  and  resumed  his  seat. 

"He  has — what?"  asked  Mr.  Latham. 

For  half  a  minute  Czenki  stared  at  his  em 
ployer  ;  then  his  face  grew  impassive  again. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  quietly.  "Mr. 
Wynne  is  a  heavy  importer  of  sugar  from 
Brazil.  Isn't  it  possible  that  those  are  Bra 
zilian  diamonds?  That  new  workings  have 
been  discovered  somewhere  in  the  interior? 
That  he  has  smuggled  them  in  concealed  in 
the  sugar-bags,  right  into  New  York,  under 
the  noses  of  the  customs  officials  ?  I  beg  your 
pardon,"  he  concluded. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day 
a  drunken  man,  unshaven,  unkempt,  unclean 
104 


AND    MORE    DIAMONDS 

and  clothed  in  rags,  lurched  into  a  small 
pawnshop  in  the  lower  Bowery  and  planked 
down  on  the  dirty  counter  a  handful  of  inert, 
colorless  pebbles,  ranging  in  size  from  a  pea 
to  a  peanut. 

"Say,  Jew,  is  them  real  diamonds?"  he  de 
manded  thickly. 

The  man  in  charge  glanced  at  them  and 
nearly  fainted.  Ten  minutes  later  Red  Ha- 
ney,  knight  of  the  road,  was  placed  under  ar 
rest  as  a  suspicious  character.  Uncut  dia 
monds,  valued  roughly  at  fifty  thousand  dol 
lars,  were  found  in  his  possession. 

"Where  did  you  get  them?"  demanded  the 
amazed  police. 

"Found  'em." 

"Where  did  you  find  them?" 

"None  o*  your  business." 

And  that  was  all  they  were  able  to  get  out 
of  him  at  the  moment. 

105 


CHAPTER   X 

THE    BIG    GAME 

WHEN  the  police  of  Mulberry  Street 
find  themselves  face  to  face  with  some 
problem  other  than  the  trivial,  every-day 
theft,  burglary  or  murder,  as  the  case  may  be, 
they  are  wont  to  rise  up  and  run  around  in 
a  circle.  The  case  of  Red  Haney  and  the 
diamonds,  blared  to  the  world  at  large  in  the 
newspapers  of  Sunday  morning,  immediately 
precipitated  a  circular  parade,  while  Haney, 
the  objective  center,  snored  along  peacefully 
in  a  drunken  stupor. 

The  statement  of  the  case  in  the  public 
press  was  altogether   negative.      There  had 
been  no  report  of  the  theft  of  fifty  thousand 
106 


THE    BIG   GAME 

dollars'  worth  of  uncut  diamonds  in  any  city 
of  the  United  States ;  in  fact,  diamonds,  as 
a  commodity  in  crime,  had  not  figured  in  po 
lice  records  for  several  weeks — not  even  an 
actress  had  mislaid  a  priceless  necklace.  The 
newspapers  were  unanimously  certain  that 
stones  of  such  value  could  not  rightfully  be 
long  to  a  man  of  Haney's  type,  therefore,  to 
whom  did  they  belong? 

Four  men,  at  least,  of  the  thousands  who 
read  the  detailed  account  of  the  affair  Sun 
day  morning,  immediately  made  it  a  matter 
of  personal  interest  to  themselves.  One  of 
these  was  Mr.  Latham,  another  was  Mr. 
Schultze,  and  a  third  was  Mr.  Birnes.  The 
fourth  was  Mr.  E.  van  Cortlandt  Wynne.  In 
the  seclusion  of  his  home  in  Thirty-seventh 
Street,  Mr.  Wynne  read  the  story  with  puck 
ered  brows,  then  re-read  it,  after  which  he 
paced  back  and  forth  across  his  room  in 
107 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

troubled  thought  for  an  hour  or  more.  An 
oppressive  sense  of  uneasiness  was  coming 
over  him;  and  it  was  reflected  in  eyes  grown 
somber. 

After  a  time,  with  sudden  determination, 
the  young  man  dropped  into  a  chair  at  his 
desk,  and  wrote  in  duplicate,  on  a  narrow 
strip  of  tough  tissue-paper,  just  one  line: 

Are  you  safe?    Is  all  well?    Answer  quick. 

W. 

Then  he  mounted  to  the  roof.  As  he  flung 
open  the  trap  a  man  on  the  top  of  the  house 
next  door  darted  behind  a  chimney.  Mr. 
Wynne  saw  him  clearly — it  was  Frank  Claflin 
— but  he  seemed  to  consider  the  matter  of  no 
consequence,  for  he  paid  not  the  slightest  at 
tention.  Instead  he  went  straight  to  a  cage 
beside  the  pigeon-cote,  wherein  a  dozen  or 
more  birds  were  imprisoned,  removed  one  of 
108 


THE    BIG    GAME 

them,  attached  a  strip  of  the  tissue-paper  to 
its  leg,  and  allowed  it  to  rise  from  his  out 
stretched  hand. 

The  pigeon  darted  away  at  an  angle,  up, 
up,  until  it  grew  indistinct  against  the  void, 
then  swung  widely  in  a  semicircle,  hovered 
uncertainly  for  an  instant,  and  flashed  off  to 
the  west,  straight  as  an  arrow  flies.  Mr. 
Wynne  watched  it  thoughtfully  until  it  had 
disappeared;  and  Claflin's  interest  was  so  in 
tense  that  he  forgot  the  necessity  of  screening 
himself,  the  result  being  that  when  he  turned 
again  toward  Mr.  Wynne  he  found  that 
young  man  gazing  at  him. 

Mr.  Wynne  even  nodded  in  a  friendly  sort 
of  way  as  he  attached  the  second  strip  of  tis 
sue  to  the  leg  of  another  bird.  This  rose,  as 
the  other  had  done,  and  sped  away  toward  the 
west. 

"It  may  be  worth  your  while  to  know,  Mr. 
109 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

Claflin,"  Mr.  Wynne  remarked  easily  to  the 
detective  on  the  other  house,  "that  if  you  ever 
put  your  foot  on  this  roof  to  intercept  any 
message  which  may  come  to  me  I  shall  shoot 
you." 

Then  he  turned  and  went  down  the  stairs 
again,  closing  and  locking  the  trap  in  the 
roof  behind  him.  He  should  get  an  answer  to 
those  questions  in  two  hours,  three  hours  at 
the  most.  If  there  was  no  answer  within  that 
time  he  would  despatch  more  birds,  and  then, 
if  no  answer  came,  then — then —  Mr.  Wynne 
sat  down  and  carefully  perused  the  newspaper 
story  again. 

At  just  about  that  moment  the  attention  of 
one  John  Sutton,  another  of  the  watchful 
Mr.  Birnes'  men,  on  duty  in  Thirty-seventh 
Street,  was  attracted  to  a  woman  who  had 
turned  in  from  Park  Avenue,  and  was  com 
ing  rapidly  toward  him,  on  the  opposite  side 
110 


THE    BIG   GAME 

of  the  street.  She  was  young,  with  the  elas 
ticity  of  perfect  health  in  her  step ;  and  close 
ly  veiled.  She  wore  a  blue  tailor-made  gown, 
with  hat  to  match;  and  recalcitrant  strands 
of  hair  gleamed  a  golden  brown. 

"By  George!"  exclaimed  the  detective. 
"It's  her!" 

By  which  he  meant  that  the  mysterious 
young  woman  of  the  cab,  whose  description 
had  been  drilled  into  him  by  Mr.  Birnes,  had 
at  last  reappeared.  He  lounged  along  the 
street,  watching  her  with  keen  interest,  fixing 
her  every  detail  in  his  mind.  She  did  not 
hesitate,  she  glanced  neither  to  right  nor  left, 
but  went  straight  to  the  house  occupied  by 
Mr.  Wynne,  and  rang  the  bell.  A  moment 
later  the  door  was  opened,  and  she  disap 
peared  inside.  The  detective  mopped  his  face 
with  tremulous  joy. 

"Doris!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Wynne,  as  the 
111 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

veiled  girl  entered  the  room  where  he  sat. 
"Doris,  my  dear  girl,  what  are  you  doing 
here?" 

He  arose  and  went  toward  her.  She  tore 
off  the  heavy  veil  impatiently,  and  lifted  her 
moist  eyes  to  his.  There  was  suffering  in 
them,  uneasiness — and  more  than  that. 

"Have  you  heard  from  him — out  there?" 
she  demanded. 

"Not  to-day,  no,"  he  responded.  "Why 
did  you  come  here?" 

"Gene,  I  can't  stand  it,"  she  burst  out  pas 
sionately.  "I'm  worried  to  death.  I  can't 
hear  a  word,  and — I'm  worried  to  death." 

Mr.  Wynne  wondered  if  she,  too,  had  seen 
the  morning  papers.  He  stared  at  her 
gravely  for  an  instant,  then  turned,  crumpled 
up  the  section  of  newspaper  with  its  glaring 
head-lines,  and  dropped  it  into  a  waste-basket. 

"I'm  sorry,"  he  said  gently. 


THE   BIG   GAME 

"I  telephoned  twice  yesterday,"  she  rushed 
on  quickly,  pleadingly,  "and  once  last  night 
and  again  this  morning.  There  was  no — no 
answer.  Gene,  I  couldn't  stand  it.  I  had  to 
come." 

"It's  only  that  he  didn't  happen  to  be 
within  hearing  of  the  telephone  bell,"  he  as 
sured  her.  But  her  steadfast,  accusing  eyes 
read  more  than  that  in  his  face,  and  her 
hands  trembled  on  his  arm. 

"I'm  afraid,  Gene,  I'm  afraid,"  she  de 
clared  desperately.  "Suppose — suppose  some 
thing  has  happened?" 

"It's  absurd,"  and  he  attempted  to  laugh 
off  her  uneasiness.  "Why,  nothing  could 
have  happened." 

"All  those  millions  of  dollars'  worth  of  dia 
monds,  Gene,"  she  reminded  him,  "and  he  is 
— I  shouldn't  have  left  him  alone." 

"Why,  my  dear  Doris,"  and  Mr.  Wynne 
113 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

gathered  the  slender,  trembling  figure  in  his 
arms  protectingly,  "not  one  living  soul,  ex 
cept  you  and  I,  knows  that  they  are  there. 
There's  no  incentive  to  robbery,  my  dear — a 
poor,  shabby  little  cottage  like  that.  There 
is  not  the  slightest  danger." 

"There  is  always  danger,  Gene,"  she  con 
tradicted.  "It  makes  me  shudder  just  to 
think  of  it.  He  is  so  old  and  so  feeble,  simple 
as  a  child,  and  utterly  helpless  if  anything 
should  happen.  Then,  when  I  didn't  hear 
from  him  after  trying  so  many  times  over 
the  telephone — I'm  afraid,  Gene,  I'm  afraid," 
she  concluded  desperately. 

The  long-pent-up  tears  came,  and  she 
buried  her  face  on  his  shoulder.  He  stood 
silent,  with  narrowed,  thoughtful  eyes. 

This,  and  the  thing  in  the  newspaper  there ! 
And  evidently  she  had  not  seen  that !  It  was 
not  wise  that  she  should  see  it  just  yet. 


THE   BIG   GAME 

"That  day  I  took  the  horrid  things  from 
you  in  the  cab  I  was  awfully  frightened,"  she 
continued  sobbingly.  "I  felt  that  every  one 
I  passed  knew  I  had  them;  and  you  can't 
imagine  what  a  relief  it  was  when  I  took  them 
back  out  there  and  left  them.  And  now  when 
I  think  that  something  may  have  happened 
to  him!"  She  paused,  then  raised  her  tear- 
dimmed  eyes  to  his  face.  "He  is  all  I  have  in 
Ihe  world  now,  Gene,  except  you.  Already 
the  hateful  things  have  cost  the  lives  of  my 
father  and  my  brother,  and  now  if  he —  Or 
you —  Oh,  my  God,  it  would  kill  me !  I  hate 
them,  hate  them !" 

She  was  shaken  by  a  paroxysm  of  sobs. 
Mr.  Wynne  led  her  to  a  chair,  and  she 
dropped  into  it  wearily,  with  her  face  in  her 
hands. 

"Nothing  can  have  happened,  Doris,"  he 
repeated  gently.  "I  sent  a  message  out  there 
115 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

in  duplicate  only  a  few  minutes  ago.  In  a 
couple  of  hours,  now,  we  shall  be  getting  an 
answer.  Nowz  don't  begin  to  cry,"  he  added 
helplessly. 

"And  if  you  don't  get  an  answer?"  she  in 
sisted. 

"I  shall  get  an  answer,"  he  declared  posi 
tively.  There  was  a  long  pause.  "And  when 
I  get  that  answer,  Doris,"  he  resumed,  again 
becoming  very  grave,  "you  will  see  how  un 
wise,  how  dangerous  even,  it  was  for  you  to 
come  here  this  way.  I  know  it's  hard,  dear," 
he  supplemented  apologetically,  "but  it  was 
only  for  the  week,  you  know ;  and  now  I  don't 
see  how  you  can  go  away  from  here  again." 

"Go  away?"  she  repeated  wonderingly. 
"Why  shouldn't  I  go  away?  I  was  very  care 
ful  to  veil  myself  when  I  came — no  one  saw 
me  enter,  I  am  sure.  Why  can't  I  go  away 
again  ?" 

116 


THE   BIG   GAME 

Mr.  Wynne  paced  the  length  of  the  room 
twice,  with  troubled  brow. 

"You  don't  understand,  dear,"  he  said 
quietly,  as  he  paused  before  her.  "From  the 
moment  I  left  Mr.  Latham's  office  last  Thurs 
day  I  have  been  under  constant  surveillance. 
I'm  followed  wherever  I  go — to  my  office,  to 
luncheon,  to  the  theater,  everywhere ;  and  day 
and  night,  day  and  night,  there  are  two  men 
watching  this  house,  and  two  other  men 
watching  at  my  office.  They  tamper  with 
my  correspondence,  trace  my  telephone  calls, 
question  my  servants,  quiz  my  clerks.  You 
don't  understand,  dear,"  he  said  again. 

"But  why  should  they  do  all  this?"  she 
asked  curiously.  "Why  should  they — " 

"I  had  expected  it  all,  of  course,"  he  inter 
rupted,  "and  it  doesn't  disturb  me  in  the  least. 
I  planned  for  months  to  anticipate  every  emer 
gency  ;  I  know  every  detective  who  is  watch- 
117 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

ing  me  by  name  and  by  sight ;  and  all  my 
plans  have  gone  perfectly  until  now.  This 
is  why  it  was  necessary  for  you  and  I  not  to 
meet ;  why  it  was  as  necessary  for  me  to  keep 
away  from  out  there  as  it  was  for  you  to 
keep  away  from  here;  why  we  could  not  af 
ford  to  take  chances  by  an  interchange  of 
letters  or  by  telephone  calls.  When  I  left 
you  in  the  cab  I  knew  you  would  get  away 
safely,  because  they  did  not  know  you  were 
there,  in  the  first  place;  and  then  it  was  the 
beginning  of  the  chase  and  I  forced  them  to 
center  their  attention  on  me.  But  now  it  is 
different.  Come  here  to  the  window  a  min 
ute." 

He  led  her  across  the  room  unresistingly. 
On  the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  staring  at 
the  house,  was  a  man. 

"That  man  is  a  private  detective,"  Mr. 
Wynne  informed  her.  "His  name  is  Sutton, 
118 


THE   BIG   GAME 

and  he  is  only  one  of  thirty  or  forty  whose 
sole  business  in  life,  right  now,  is  to  watch 
me,  to  keep  track  of  and  follow  any  person 
who  comes  here.  He  saw  you  enter,  and  you 
couldn't  escape  him  going  out.  There's  an 
other  on  the  roof  of  the  house  next  door.  His 
name  is  Claflin.  These  men,  or  others  from 
the  same  agency,  are  here  all  the  time.  There 
are  two  more  at  my  office  downtown;  still 
others  are  searching  customs  records,  examin 
ing  the  books  of  the  express  companies,  prob 
ing  into  my  private  affairs.  And  they're  all 
in  the  employ  of  the  men  with  whom  I  am 
dealing.  Do  you  understand  now?" 

"I  didn't  dream  of  such  a  thing,"  the  girl 
faltered  slowly.  "I  knew,  of  course,  that — 
Gene,  I  shouldn't  have  come  if — if  only  I 
could  have  heard  from  him." 

"My  dear  girl,  it's  a  big  game  we  are  play 
ing — a  hundred-million-dollar  game!  And 
119 


we  shall  win  it,  unless — we  shall  win  it,  in 
spite  of  them.  Naturally  the  diamond  dealers 
don't  want  to  be  compelled  to  put  up  one  hun 
dred  million  dollars.  They  reason  that  if  the 
stones  I  showed  them  came  from  new  fields, 
and  the  supply  is  unlimited,  as  I  told  them, 
that  the  diamond  market  is  on  the  verge  of 
collapse,  anyway ;  and  as  they  look  at  it  they 
are  compelled  to  know  where  they  came  from. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  if  they  did  know,  or  if 
the  public  got  one  inkling  of  the  truth,  the 
diamond  market  would  be  wrecked,  and  all  the 
diamond  dealers  in  the  world  working  to 
gether  couldn't  prevent  it.  If  they  succeed 
in  doing  this  thing  they  feel  they  must  do, 
they  will  only  bring  disaster  upon  themselves. 
It  would  do  no  good  to  tell  them  so ;  I  merely 
laid  my  plans  and  am  letting  them  alone.  So, 
you  see,  my  dear,  it  is  a  big  game — a  big 
game !" 

120 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE    SILENT    BELL 

HE  STOOD  looking  at  her  with  earnest, 
thoughtful  eyes.  Suddenly  the  woman- 
soul  within  her  awoke  in  a  surging,  inexplica 
ble  wave  of  emotion  which  almost  overcame 
her ;  and  after  it  came  something  of  realization 
of  the  great  fight  he  was  making  for  her — for 
her,  and  the  aged,  feeble  grandfather  waiting 
patiently  out  there.  He  loved  her,  this  master 
among  men,  and  she  sighed  contentedly.  For 
the  moment  the  maddening  anxiety  that 
brought  her  here  was  forgotten;  there  was 
only  the  ineffable  sweetness  of  seeing  him 
again.  She  extended  her  hands  to  him  im 
pulsively,  and  he  kissed  them  both. 
121 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"The  difficulty  of  you  leaving  here,"  he 
went  on  after  a  little,  "is  that  you  would  be 
followed,  and  within  two  hours  these  men 
would  know  all  about  you — wrhere  you  are 
stopping,  how  long  you  have  been  there ;  they 
would  know  of  your  daily  telephone  messages 
to  your  grandfather,  and  then,  inevitably, 
they  would  appear  out  there,  and  learn  all  the 
rest  of  it.  It  doesn't  matter  how  closely  they 
keep  watch  of  me.  My  plans  are  all  made,  I 
know  I  am  watched,  and  make  no  mistakes. 
But  you !" 

"So  I  should  not  have  come?"  she  ques 
tioned.  "I'm  sorry." 

"I  understand  your  anxiety,  of  course,"  he 
assured  her,  and  he  was  smiling  a  little,  "but 
the  worst  never  happens — so  for  the  present 
we  will  not  worry.  In  an  hour  or  more,  now, 
I  imagine  we  shall  receive  a  pigeon-o-gram 
which  will  show  that  all  is  well.  And  then  I 


THE    SILENT    BELL 

shall  have  to  plan  for  you  to  get  away  some 
how." 

She  leaned  toward  him  a  little  and  again  he 
gathered  her  in  his  arms.  The  red  lips  were 
mutely  raised,  and  he  kissed  her  reverently. 

"It's  all  for  you  and  it  will  all  be  right," 
he  assured  her. 

"Gene,  dear  Gene !" 

He  pressed  a  button  on  the  wall  and  a  maid 
appeared. 

"You  will  have  to  wait  for  a  couple  of 
hours  or  so,  at  least,  so  if  you  would  like  to 
take  off  your  things?"  he  suggested  with 
grave  courtesy.  "I  dare  say  the  suite  just 
above  is  habitable,  and  the  maid  is  at  your 
service." 

The  girl  regarded  him  pensively  for  a  mo 
ment,  then  turning  ran  swiftly  up  the  stairs. 
The  maid  started  to  follow  more  staidly. 

"Just  a  moment,"  said  Mr.  Wynne  crisply, 
123 


in  an  undertone.  "Miss  Kellner  is  not  to  be 
allowed  to  use  the  telephone  under  any  cir 
cumstances.  You  understand?"  She  nodded 
silently,  and  went  up  the  stairs. 

An  hour  passed.  From  the  swivel  chair  at 
his  desk  Mr.  Wynne  had  twice  seen  Sutton 
stroll  past  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street ; 
and  then  Claflin  had  lounged  along.  Sud 
denly  he  arose  and  went  to  the  window,  throw 
ing  back  the  curtains.  Sutton  was  leaning 
against  an  electric-light  pole,  half  a  block 
away ;  Claflin  was  half  a  block  off  in  the  other 
direction,  in  casual  conversation  with  a  po 
liceman.  Mr.  Wynne  looked  them  over 
thoughtfully.  Curiously  enough  he  was  won 
dering  just  how  he  would  fare  in  a  physical 
contest  with  either,  or  both. 

He  turned  away  from  the  window  at  last 
and  glanced  at  his  watch  impatiently.  One 
hour  and  forty  minutes !  In  another  half  an 


THE    SILENT    BELL 

hour  the  little  bell  over  his  desk  should  ring. 
That  would  mean  that  a  pigeon  had  arrived 
from — from  out  there,  and  that  the  automatic 
door  had  closed  upon  it  as  it  entered  the  cote. 
But  if  it  didn't  come — if  it  didn't  come! 
Then  what?  There  was  only  one  conclusion 
to  be  drawn,  and  he  shuddered  a  little  when 
he  thought  of  it.  There  could  only  remain 
this  single  possibility  when  he  considered  the 
sinister  things  that  had  happened — the  fail 
ure  of  the  girl  to  get  an  answer  by  telephone, 
and  the  unexpected  appearance  of  Red  Haney 
with  the  uncut  diamonds.  It  might  be  neces 
sary  for  him  to  go  out  there,  and  how  could 
he  do  it?  How,  without  leaving  an  open  trail 
behind  him  ?  How,  without  inviting  defeat  in 
the  fight  he  was  making? 

His  meditations  were  interrupted  by  the 
appearance  of  Miss  Kellner.     She  had  crept 
down  the  stairs  noiselessly,  and  stood  beside 
125 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

him  before  he  was  aware  of  her  presence.  Her 
eyes  sought  his  countenance  questioning^, 
and  the  deadly  pallor  of  her  face  frightened 
him.  She  crept  into  his  arms  and  nestled 
there  silently  with  dry,  staring  eyes.  He 
stroked  the  golden-brown  hair  with  an  utter 
sense  of  helplessness. 

"Nothing  yet,"  he  said  finally,  and  there 
was  a  thin  assumption  of  cheerincss  in  his 
tone.  "It  may  be  another  hour,  but  it  will 
come — it  will  come." 

"But  if  it  doesn't,  Gene?"  she  queried  in 
sistently.  Always  her  mind  went  back  to  that 
possibility. 

"We  shall  cross  no  bridges  until  we  reach 
them,"  he  replied.  "There  is  always  a  chance 
that  the  pigeons  might  have  gone  astray,  for 
they  have  this  single  disadvantage  against  the 
incalculable  advantage  of  offering  no  clew  to 
any  one  as  to  where  they  go ;  and  it  is  impos- 


THE    SILENT    BELL 

sible  to  follow  them.    If  nothing  comes  within 
half  an  hour  now  I  shall  send  two  more." 

"And  then,  if  nothing  comes?" 

"Then,  my  dear,  then  we  shall  begin  to 
worry." 

Half  an  hour  passed;  the  little  bell  was 
silent;  Claflin  and  Sutton  were  still  visible 
from  the  window.  Miss  Kellner's  eyes  were 
immovably  fixed  on  Mr.  Wynne's  face,  and  he 
repressed  his  gnawing  anxiety  with  an  effort. 
Finally  he  wrote  again  on  the  tissue  slips — 
three  of  them  this  time — and  together  they 
climbed  to  the  roof,  attached  the  messages, 
and  watched  the  birds  disappear. 

Another  hour — two  hours — two  hours  and 
a  half  passed.  Suddenly  the  girl  arose  with 
pallid  face  and  colorless  lips. 

"I  can't  stand  it,  Gene,  I  can't!"  she  ex 
claimed  hysterically.  "I  must  know.  The 
telephone?" 

127 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"No,"  he  commanded  harshly,  and  he,  too, 
arose.  "No." 

"I  will!"  she  flashed. 

She  darted  out  of  the  room  and  along  the 
hall.  He  followed  her  with  grim  determina 
tion  in  his  face.  She  seized  the  receiver  from 
the  hook  and  held  it  to  her  ear. 

"Hello!"  called  Central. 

"Give  me  long  distance — Coaldale,  Num 
ber—" 

"No,"  commanded  Mr.  Wynne,  and  he 
placed  one  hand  over  the  transmitter  tightly. 
"Doris,  you  must  not !" 

"I  will !"  she  flamed.    "Let  me  alone !" 

"You'll  ruin  everything,"  he  pleaded  ear 
nestly.  "Don't  you  know  that  they  get  every 
number  I  call?  Don't  you  know  that  within 
fifteen  minutes  they  will  have  that  number, 
and  their  men  will  start  for  there  ?" 

She  faced  him  with  blazing  eyes. 
128 


THE    SILENT    BELL 

"I  don't  care,"  she  said  deliberately,  and 
the  white  face  was  relieved  by  an  angry  flush. 
"I  will  know  what  has  happened  out  there! 
I  must !  Gene,  don't  you  see  that  I'm  frantic 
with  anxiety?  The  money  means  nothing  to 
me.  I  want  to  know  if  he  is  safe." 

His  hand  was  still  gripped  over  the  trans 
mitter.  Suddenly  she  turned  and  tugged  at 
it  fiercely.  Her  sharp  little  nails  bit  into  the 
flesh  of  his  fingers.  In  a  last  desperate  effort 
she  placed  the  receiver  to  her  lips. 

"Give  me  long  distance,  Coaldale  Num 
ber—" 

With  a  quick  movement  he  snapped  the 
connecting  wire  from  the  instrument,  and  the 
receiver  was  free  in  her  hand. 

"Doris,  you  are  mad !"  he  protested.  "Wait 
a  minute,  my  dear  girl — just  a  minute." 

"I  don't  care !    I  will  know !" 

Mr.  Wynne  turned  and  picked  up  a  heavy 
129 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

cane  from  the  hall-stand,  and  brought  it  down 
on  the  transmitter  with  all  his  strength.  The 
delicate  mechanism  jangled  and  tingled,  then 
the  front  fell  off  at  their  feet.  The  dia 
phragm  dropped  and  rolled  away. 

"Doris,  you  must  not !"  he  commanded 
again  gravely.  "We  will  find  another  way, 
dear." 

"How  dare  you?"  she  demanded  violently. 
"It  was  cowardly." 

"You  don't  understand — " 

"I  understand  it  all,"  she  broke  in.  "I  un 
derstand  that  this  might  lead  to  the  failure 
of  the  thing  you  are  trying  to  do.  But  I 
don't  care.  I  understand  that  already  I  have 
lost  my  father  and  my  brother  in  this ;  that 
my  grandmother  and  my  mother  were  nearly 
starved  to  death  while  it  was  all  being 
planned;  all  for  these  hideous  diamonds. 
Diamonds !  Diamonds !  Diamonds !  I've  heard 
130 


THE    SILENT    BELL 

nothing  all  my  life  but  that.  As  a  child  it 
was  dinned  into  me,  and  now  I  am  sick  and 
weary  of  it  all.  I  know — I  know  something 
has  happened  to  him  now.  I  hate  them!  I 
hate  them !" 

She  stopped,  glared  at  him  with  scornful 
eyes  for  an  instant,  then  ran  up  the  stairs 
again.  Mr.  Wynne  touched  a  button  in  the 
wall,  and  the  maid  appeared. 

"Go  lock  the  back  door,  and  bring  me  the 
key,"  he  commanded. 

The  maid  went  away,  and  a  moment  later 
returned  to  hand  him  the  key.  He  still  stood 
in  the  hall,  waiting. 

After  a  little  there  came  a  rush  of  skirts, 
and  Miss  Kellrier  ran  down  the  steps,  dressed 
for  the  street. 

"Doris,"  he  pleaded,  "you  must  not  go  out 
now.    Wait  just  a  moment — we'll  find  a  way, 
and  then  I'll  go  with  you." 
131 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

She  tried  to  pass  him,  but  his  outstretched 
arms  made  her  a  prisoner. 

"Do  I  understand  that  you  refuse  to  let  me 
go?"  she  asked  tensely. 

"Not  like  this,"  he  replied.  "If  you'll  give 
me  just  a  little  while  then  perhaps — perhaps 
I  may  go  with  you.  Even  if  something  had 
happened  there  you  could  do  nothing  alone. 
I,  too,  am  afraid  now.  Just  half  an  hour — 
fifteen  minutes !  Perhaps  I  may  be  able  to 
find  a  plan." 

Suddenly  she  sank  down  on  the  stairs,  with 
her  face  in  her  hands.  He  caressed  her  hair 
tenderly,  then  raised  her  to  her  feet. 

"Suppose  you  step  into  the  back  parlor 
here,"  he  requested.  "Just  give  me  fifteen 
minutes.  Then,  unless  I  can  find  a  way  for 
us  to  go  together  safely,  we  will  throw  every 
thing  aside  and  go  anyway.  Forgive  me, 
dear." 

132 


THE    SILENT   BELL 

She  submitted  quietly  to  be  led  along  the 
hall.  He  opened  the  door  into  a  room  and 
stood  aside  for  her  to  pass. 

"Gene,  Gene !"  she  exclaimed. 

Her  soft  arms  found  their  way  about  his 
neck,  and  she  drew  his  face  down  and  kissed 
him;  then,  without  a  word,  she  entered  the 
room  and  he  closed  the  door.  A  minute  passed 
— two,  four,  five — and  Mr.  Wynne  stood  as 
she  left  him,  then  he  opened  the  front  door 
and  stepped  out. 

Frank  Claflin  was  just  starting  toward  the 
house  from  the  corner  with  deliberate  pace 
when  he  glanced  up  and  saw  Mr.  Wynne  sig 
naling  for  him  to  approach.  Could  it  be  pos 
sible?  He  had  had  no  orders  about  talking 
to  this  man,  but —  Perhaps  he  was  going  to 
give  it  up !  And  with  this  idea  he  accelerated 
his  pace  and  crossed  the  street. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Claflin,  will  you  step  in  just  a 
133 


moment,  please?"  requested  Mr.  Wynne  cour 
teously. 

"Why?"  demanded  the  detective  suspi 
ciously. 

"There's  a  matter  I  want  to  discuss  with 
you,"  responded  Mr.  Wynne.  "It  may  be 
that  we  can  reach  some  sort  of — of  an  agree 
ment  about  this,  and  if  you  don't  mind — " 

Claflin  went  up  the  steps,  Mr.  Wynne  ush 
ered  him  in  and  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

Three  minutes  later  Mr.  Wynne  appeared 
on  the  steps  again  and  beckoned  to  Sutton, 
who  had  witnessed  the  incident  just  preced 
ing,  and  was  positively  being  eaten  by  curi 
osity. 

"This  is  Mr.  Sutton,  isn't  it?"  inquired 
Mr.  Wynne. 

"Yes,  that's  me." 

"Well,  Mr.  Claflin  and  I  are  discussing  this 
matter,  and  my  proposition  to  him  was  such 
134- 


THE    SILENT    BELL 

that  he  felt  it  must  be  made  in  your  presence. 
Would  you  mind  stepping  inside  for  a  mo 
ment?" 

"You  and  the  girl  decided  to  give  it  up?" 
queried  Mr.  Button  triumphantly. 

"We  are  just  discussing  the  matter  now," 
was  the  answer. 

Sutton  went  up  the  steps  and  disappeared 
inside. 

And  about  four  minutes  after  that  Mr. 
Wynne  stood  in  the  hallway,  puffing  a  little 
as  he  readjusted  his  necktie.  He  picked  up 
his  hat,  drew  on  his  gloves  and  then  rapped 
on  the  door  of  the  back  parlor.  Miss  Kellner 
appeared. 

"We  will  go  now,"  said  Mr.  Wynne  quietly. 

"But  is  it  safe,  Gene?"  she  asked  quickly. 

"Perfectly  safe,  yes.  There's  no  danger 
of  being  followed  if  we  go  immediately." 

She  gazed  at  him  wonderingly,  then  fol- 
135 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

lowed  him  to  the  door.  He  opened  It  and  she 
passed  out,  glancing  around  curiously.  For 
one  instant  he  paused,  and  there  came  a  clatter 
and  clamor  from  somewhere  in  the  rear  of  the 
house.  He  closed  the  door  with  a  grim  smile. 

"Which  are  the  detectives?"  asked  Miss 
Kellner,  in  an  awed  whisper. 

"I  don't  see  them  around  just  now,"  he  re 
plied.  "We  can  get  a  cab  at  the  corner." 


136 


THE    THIRD    DEGREE 

SOME  years  ago  a  famous  head  of  the  po 
lice  department  clearly  demonstrated  the 
superiority  of  a  knock-out  blow,  frequently 
administered,  as  against  moral  suasion,  and 
from  that  moment  the  "third  degree"  became 
an  institution.  Whatever  sort  of  criticism 
may  be  made  of  the  "third  degree,"  it  is, 
nevertheless,  amazingly  effective,  and  beyond 
that,  affords  infinite  satisfaction  to  the  admin 
istrator.  There  is  a  certain  vicious  delight 
in  brutally  smashing  a  sullen,  helpless  pris 
oner  in  the  face;  and  the  "third  degree"  is 
not  officially  in  existence. 

Red  Haney  was  submitted  to  the  "third 
degree."     His  argument  that  he  found  the 
137 


diamonds,  and  that  having  found  them  they 
were  his  until  the  proper  owner  appeared,  was 
futile.  Ten  minutes  after  having  passed  into 
a  room  where  sat  Chief  Arkwright,  of  the 
Mulberry  Street  force,  and  three  of  his  men, 
and  Steven  Birnes,  of  the  Birnes  Detective 
Agency,  Haney  remembered  that  he  hadn't 
found  the  diamonds  at  all — somebody  had 
given  them  to  him. 

"Who  gave  them  to  you?"  demanded  the 
chief. 

"I  don't  know  the  guy's  name,  Boss,"  Ha 
ney  replied  humbly. 

"This  is  to  remind  you  of  it." 

Haney  found  himself  sprawling  on  the 
floor,  and  looked  up,  with  a  pleading,  piteous 
expression.  His  eyes  were  still  red  and  bleary, 
his  motley  face  shot  with  purple,  and  the 
fumes  of  the  liquor  still  clouded  his  brain. 
The  chief  stood  above  him  with  clenched  fist. 
138 


THE    THIRD    DEGREE 

"On  the  level,   Boss,  I  don't  know,"   he 

whined. 

"Get  up!"  commanded  the  chief.  Haney 
struggled  to  his  feet  and  dropped  into  his 
chair.  "What  does  he  look  like — this  man 
who  gave  them  to  you?  Where  did  you  meet 
him  ?  Why  did  he  give  them  to  you  ?" 

"Now,  Boss,  I'm  goin'  to  give  you  the 
straight  goods,"  Haney  pleaded.  "Don't  hit 
me  any  more  an'  I'll  tell  you  all  I  know 
about  it." 

The  chief  sat  down  again  with  scowling 
face.  Haney  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief. 

"He's  a  little,  skinny  feller,  Boss,"  the 
prisoner  went  on  to  explain,  the  while  he 
thoughtfully  caressed  his  jaw.  "I  meets  him 
out  here  in  a  little  town  called  Willow  Creek, 
me  havin'  swung  off  a  freight  there  to  git 
somethin'  to  eat.  He's  just  got  a  couple  o' 
handouts  an'  he  passes  one  to  me,  an'  we  gits 
139 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

to  talkin'.  He  gits  to  tellin'  me  somethin' 
about  a  nutty  old  gazabo  who  lives  in  the  next 
town,  which  he  had  just  left.  This  old  bazoo, 
he  says,  has  a  hatful  o'  diamonds  up  there, 
but  they  ain't  polished  or  nothin',  an'  he's 
there  by  hisself,  an'  is  old  an'  simple,  an'  it's 
findin'  money,  he  says,  to  go  over  an'  take 
'em  away  from  him.  He  reckoned  there  must 
'a'  been  a  thousan'  dollars'  worth  altogether. 
"Well,  he  puts  the  proposition  to  me,"  Ha- 
ney  continued  circumstantially,  "an'  I  falls 
for  it.  We're  to  go  over,  an'  I'm  to  pipe  it 
all  off  to  see  it's  all  right,  then  I'm  to  sort  o' 
hang  aroun'  an'  keep  watch  while  he  goes  in 
an'  gives  the  old  nut  a  gentle  tap  on  the  coco, 
an'  cops  the  sparks.  That's  what  we  done. 
I  goes  up  an'  takes  a  few  looks  aroun',  then 
I  whistles  an'  he  appears  from  the  back,  an' 
goes  up  to  the  kitchen  for  a  handout.  The 
old  guy  opens  the  door,  an'  he  goes  in.  About 
140 


THE    THIRD    DEGREE 

a  minute  later  he  comes  out  an'  gives  me  a 
handful  o'  little  rocks — them  I  had — an'  we 
go  away.  He  catches  a  freight  goin'  west, 
an'  I  swings  one  for  Jersey  City." 

"When  was  this?"  demanded  Chief  Ark- 
wright. 

"What's  to-day?"  asked  Haney  in  turn. 

"This  is  Sunday  morning." 

"Well,  it  was  yesterday  mornin'  sometime, 
Saturday.  When  I  gits  to  Jersey  I  takes  one 
o'  the  little  rocks  an'  goes  into  a  place  an' 
shows  it  to  the  bar-keep.  He  gives  me  a  lot 
o'  booze  for  it,  an'  I  guess  I  gits  considerable 
lit  up,  an'  he  also  gives  me  some  money  to 
pay  ferry  fare,  an'  the  next  thing  I  knows 
I'm  nabbed  over  in  the  hock-shop,  I  guess  I 
was  lit  up  good,  'cause  if  I'd  'a'  been  right  I 
wouldn't  'a'  went  to  the  hock-shop  an'  got 
pinched." 

He  glanced  around  at  the  five  other  men  in 
141 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

the  room,  and  he  read  belief  in  each  face, 
whereupon  he  drew  a  breath  of  relief. 

"What  town  was  it?"  asked  the  chief. 

"Little  place  named  Coaldale." 

"Coaldale,"  the  chief  repeated  thought 
fully.  "Where  is  that?" 

"About  forty  or  fifty  miles  out'n  Jersey," 
said  Haney. 

"I  know  the  place,"  remarked  Mr.  Birnes. 

"You  are  sure,  Haney?"  said  the  chief 
after  a  pause.  "You  are  sure  you  don't  know 
this  other  man's  name?" 

"I  don't  know  it,  Boss." 

"Who  was  the  man  you  robbed?" 

"I  don't  know." 

The  chief  arose  quickly,  and  the  prisoner 
cringed  in  his  seat. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  went  on  protestingly. 
"Don't  hit  me  again." 

But  the  chief  had  no  such  intention ;  it  was 
142 


THE    THIRD    DEGREE 

merely  to  walk  back   and  forth  across  the 
room. 

"What  kind  of  man  was  he — a  tramp  ?" 

Haney  faltered  and  thoughtfully  pulled  his 
under-lip.  The  cunning  brain  behind  the 
bleary  eyes  was  working  now. 

"I  wouldn't  call  him  a  tramp,"  he  said 
evasively.  "He  had  on  collar  an'  cuffs  an' 
good  clothes,  an'  talked  sort  o'  easy." 

"Little,  skinny  man  you  said.  What  color 
was  his  hair?" 

The  chief  turned  in  his  tracks  and  regarded 
Haney  with  keen,  inquiring  eyes.  The  pris 
oner  withstood  the  scrutiny  bravely. 

"Sort  o'  blackish,  brownish  hair." 

"Black,  you  mean?" 

"Well,  yes— black." 

"And  his  eyes?" 

"Black  eyes — little  an'  round  like  gimlet 
holes." 

143 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"Heavy  eyebrows,  I  suppose?" 

"Yes,"  Haney  agreed  readily.  "They  sort 
o'  stick  out." 

"And  his  nose?  Big  or  little?  Heavy  or 
thin?" 

Haney  considered  that  thoughtfully  for  a 
moment  before  he  answered.  Then : 

"Sort  o'  medium  nose,  Boss,  with  a  point 
on  it." 

"And  a  thin  face,  naturally.  How  much 
did  he  weigh?" 

"Oh,  he  was  a  little  feller — skinny,  you 
know.  I  reckon  he  didn't  weigh  no  more'n  a 
hundred  an'  twenty-five  or  thirty." 

Some  germ  had  been  born  in  the  fertile 
mind  of  Mr.  Birnes;  now  it  burst  into  ma 
turity.  He  leaned  forward  in  his  chair  and 
stared  coldly  at  Haney. 

"Perhaps,"  he  suggested  slowly,  "perhaps 
he  had  a  scar  on  his  face  ?" 
144 


THE    THIRD    DEGREE 

Haney  returned  the  gaze  dully  for  an  in 
stant,  then  suddenly  he  nodded  his  head. 

"Yes,  a  scar,"  he  said. 

"From  here?"  Mr.  Birnes  placed  one  fin 
ger  on  the  point  of  his  chin  and  drew  it  across 
his  right  jaw. 

"Yes,  a  scar — that's  it,"  the  prisoner  ac 
quiesced,  "from  his  chin  almost  around  to  his 
ear." 

Mr.  Birnes  came  to  his  feet,  while  the  of 
ficial  police  stared.  The  chief  sat  down  again 
and  crossed  his  fat  legs. 

"Why,  what  do  you  know,  Birnes?"  he 
queried. 

"I  know  the  man,  Chief,"  the  detective 
burst  out  confidently.  "I'd  gamble  my  head 
on  it.  I  knew  it!  I  knew  it!"  he  told  him 
self.  Again  he  faced  the  tramp:  "Haney, 
do  you  know  how  much  the  diamonds  you  had 
were  worth?" 

145 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"Must  'a'  been  three  or  four  hundred  dol 
lars." 

"Something  like  fifty  thousand  dollars," 
Mr.  Birnes  informed  him  impressively ;  "and 
if  you  got  fifty  thousand  dollars  for  your 
share  the  other  man  got  a  million." 

Haney  only  stared. 


146 


CHAPTER    XIII 

MR.    CZENKI    APPEAES 

HALF  an  hour  later  Mr.  Birnes,  Chief 
Arkwright  and  Detective  Sergeant  Con 
nelly  were  on  a  train,  bound  for  Coaldale.  Mr. 
Birnes  had  left  them  for  a  moment  at  the 
ferry  and  rushed  into  a  telephone  booth. 
When  he  came  out  he  was  exuberantly  tri 
umphant. 

"It's  my  man,  all  right,"  he  assured  the 
chief.  "He  has  been  missing  since  Friday 
night,  and  no  one  knows  his  whereabouts.  It's 
my  man." 

It  was  an  hour's  ride  to  Coaldale,  a  sprawl 
ing,  straggly  village  with  only  four  or  five 
houses  in  sight  from  the  station.  When  the 
147 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

three  men  left  the  train  there,  Mr.  Birnes 
walked  over  and  spoke  to  the  agent,  a  thin, 
cadaverous,  tobacco-chewing  specimen  of  his 
species. 

"We  are  looking  for  an  old  gentleman  who 
lives  out  here  somewhere,"  he  explained.  "He 
probably  lives  alone,  and  we've  been  told  that 
he  has  a  little  cottage  somewhere  over  this 
way." 

He  waved  his  hand  vaguely  to  the  right,  in 
accordance  with  the  directions  of  Red  Haney. 
The  station  agent  scratched  his  stubbly  chin, 
and  spat  with  great  accuracy  through  a  knot 
hole  ten  feet  away. 

"  'Spect  you  mean  old  man  Kellner,"  he  re 
plied  obligingly.  "He  lives  by  hisself  part  of 
the  time;  then  again  sometimes  his  grand- 
darter  lives  with  him." 

Granddaughter!  Mr.  Birnes  almost  jumped. 

"A  granddaughter,  yes,"  he  said  with  a 
148 


MR.    CZENKI    APPEARS 

forced  calm.  "Rather  a  pretty  girl,  twenty- 
two  or  three  years  old?  Sometimes  she  dresses 
in  blue?" 

"Yes,"  the  agent  agreed.  "  'Spect  them's 
them.  Follow  the  road  there  till  you  come  to 
Widow  Gardiner's  hog-lot,  then  turn  to  your 
left,  and  it's  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  on. 
The  only  house  up  that  way — you  can't  miss 
it." 

The  agent  stood  squinting  at  them,  with 
friendly  inquiry  radiating  from  his  parch 
ment-like  countenance,  and  Mr.  Birnes  took  an 
opportunity  to  ask  some  other  questions : 

"By  the  way,  what  sort  of  an  old  man  is 
this  Mr.  Kellner?  What  does  he  do?  Is  he 
wealthy?" 

A  pleasant  grin  overspread  his  informant's 
face;  one  finger  was  raised  to  his  head  and 
twirled  significantly. 

"  'Spect  he's  crazy,"  he  went  on  to  explain. 
149 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"Don't  do  nothing,  so  far  as  nobody  knows — 
laves  like  a  hermit,  stays  in  the  house  all  the 
time,  and  has  long  whiskers.  Don't  know 
whether  he's  rich  or  not,  but  'spect  he  ain't, 
becuz  no  man  with  money'd  live  like  he  does." 
He  thrust  a  long  forefinger  into  Mr.  Birnes' 
face.  "And  stingy !  He's  so  stingy  he  won't 
let  nobody  come  in  the  house — scared  they'll 
wear  the  furniture  out  looking  at  it." 

"How  long  has  he  lived  here?" 

"There  ain't  nobody  in  this  town  old 
enough  to  say.  Why,  mister,  I'll  bet  that  old 
man's  a  thousand  years  old.  Wait'll  you  see 
him." 

That  was  all.    They  went  on  as  indicated. 

"The  very  type  of  man  who  would  scrimp 
and  starve  to  put  all  his  money  in  something 
like  diamonds,"  mused  Chief  Arkwright. 
"The  usual  rich  old  miser  who  winds  up  by 
being  murdered." 

150 


MR.    CZENKI    APPEARS 

They  passed  the  "Widow  Gardiner's  hog- 
lot"  and  came  into  a  pleasant  country  road, 
which,  turning,  brought  them  to  a  shabby 
little  cottage,  embowered  in  trees.  Through 
the  foliage,  farther  on,  they  caught  the  am 
ber  gleam  of  a  languid  river;  and  around 
their  feet,  as  they  entered  the  yard,  scores  of 
pigeons  fluttered. 

"Carriers!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Birnes,  as  if 
startled. 

With  a  strange  feeling  of  elation  the  de 
tective  led  the  way  up  the  steps  to  the  ve 
randa,  and  knocked.  There  was  no  answer. 
He  glanced  at  the  chief  significantly,  and 
tried  the  door.  It  was  locked. 

"Try  the  back  door,"  directed  Chief  Ark- 
wright  tersely.  "If  that's  locked  we'll  go  in 
anyway." 

They  passed  around  the  house  to  the  rear, 
and  Mr.  Birnes  laid  one  hand  upon  the  door- 
151 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

knob.  He  turned  it  and  the  door  swung  in 
ward.  Again  he  glanced  at  Chief  Arkwright. 
The  chief  nodded,  and  led  the  way  into  the 
house.  They  stood  in  a  kitchen,  clean  as  to 
floors  and  tables,  but  now  in  the  utmost  dis 
order.  They  spent  only  a  moment  here,  then 
passed  into  the  narrow  hall,  along  this  to  a 
door  that  stood  open,  and  then — then  Chief 
Arkwright  paused,  staring  downward,  and  re 
spectfully  lifted  his  hat. 

"Always  the  same,"  he  remarked  enigmati 
cally. 

Mr.  Birnes  thrust  himself  forward  and 
through  the  door.  On  the  floor,  with  white 
face  turned  upward,  and  fixed,  staring  eyes, 
lay  an  old  man.  His  venerable  gray  hair, 
long  and  unkempt,  fell  back  from  a  brow  of 
noble  proportions,  the  wide,  high  brow  of  the 
student;  and  a  great,  snow-white  beard  rip 
pled  down  over  his  breast.  Save  for  the 
152 


MR.    CZENKI    APPEARS 

glassiness  of  the  eyes  the  face  was  placid  in 
death,  even  as  it  must  have  been  in  life. 

Mutely  Mr.  Birnes  examined  the  body.  A 
blow  in  the  back  of  the  head — that  was  all. 
Then  he  glanced  around  the  room  inquiringly. 
Everything  was  in  order,  except — except  here 
lay  an  overturned  cigar-box.  He  picked  it 
up ;  two  uncut  diamonds  were  on  the  floor  be 
neath  it.  The  rough,  inert  pebbles  silently 
attested  the  obvious  manner  of  death  which 
simultaneously  forced  itself  upon  the  three 
men — the  cowardly  blow  of  an  assassin,  a  dy 
ing  struggle,  perhaps,  for  the  contents  of  the 
box,  and  this — the  end ! 

From  outside  came  sharply  in  the  silence 
the  rattle  of  wheels  on  the  gravel  of  the  road, 
and  a  vehicle  stopped  in  front  of  the  door. 

"Sh-h-h-h!"  warned  the  chief. 

Some  one  came  along  the  walk,  up  the  steps 
and  rapped  briskly  on  the  door ;  the  detectives 
153 


waited  motionless,  silent.  The  knob  rattled 
under  impatient  fingers,  then  the  footsteps 
passed  along  the  veranda  quickly,  and  were 
lost,  as  if  some  one  had  stepped  off  at  the  end 
intending  to  come  to  the  back  door,  which  was 
open.  A  moment  later  they  heard  steps  in 
the  kitchen,  then  in  the  narrow  hall  approach 
ing,  and  the  doorway  of  the  room  where  they 
stood  framed  the  figure  of  a  man.  It  was 
Mr.  Czenki. 

"There's  your  man,  Chief,"  remarked  Mr. 
Birnes  quietly. 

The  diamond  expert  permitted  his  gaze  to 
wander  from  one  to  another  of  the  three  men, 
and  then  the  beady  black  eyes  came  to  rest 
on  the  silent,  outstretched  figure  of  the  old 
man.  He  started  forward  impulsively;  the 
grip  of  Detective-Sergeant  Connelly  on  his 
arm  stopped  him. 

"You're  my  prisoner !" 
154 


MR.    CZENKI    APPEARS 

"Yes,  I  understand,"  said  Mr.  Czenki  im 
patiently.  He  didn't  even  look  up ;  he  was 
still  gazing  at  the  figure  on  the  floor. 

"Well,  what  have  you  got  to  say  for  your 
self?"  demanded  Chief  Arkwright  coldly. 

Mr.  Czenki  met  the  accusing  stare  of  the 
chief  squarely  for  an  instant,  then  the  keen 
eyes  shifted  to  the  slightly  flushed  face  of 
Mr.  Birnes  and  lingered  there  interrogatively. 

"I  have  nothing  whatever  to  say,"  he  re 
plied  at  last,  and  he  drew  one  hand  slowly 
across  his  thin,  scarred  face.  "Yes,  I  under 
stand,"  he  repeated  absently.  "I  have  noth 
ing  to  say." 


155 


CHAPTER   XIV 

CAUGHT    IN    THE    NET 

DORIS  looked  down  in  great,  dry-eyed 
horror  upon  the  body  of  this  withered 
old  man  whom  she  had  loved,  and  the  thin 
thread  of  life  within  her  all  but  snapped.  It 
had  come;  the  premonition  of  disaster  had 
been  fulfilled;  the  last  of  her  blood  had  been 
sacrificed  to  the  mercilessly  glittering  dia 
monds — father,  brother  and  now  him!  Mr. 
Wynne's  face  went  white,  and  his  teeth  closed 
fiercely ;  he  had  loved  this  old  man,  too ;  then 
the  shock  passed,  and  he  turned  anxiously  to 
Doris  to  receive  the  limp,  inert  figure  in  his 
arms.  She  had  fainted. 

"Well,  what  do  you  know  about  it?"  in 
quired  Chief  Arkwright  abruptly. 
156 


CAUGHT    IN    THE    NET 

Mr.  Wynne  was  himself  again  instantly — 
the  calm,  self-certain,  perfectly  poised  young 
man  of  affairs.  He  glanced  at  the  chief,  then 
shot  a  quick,  inquiring  look  at  Mr.  Czenki. 
Almost  imperceptibly  the  diamond  expert 
shook  his  head.  Then  Mr.  Wynne's  eyes 
turned  upon  Mr.  Birnes.  There  had  been 
triumph  in  the  detective's  face  until  that  mo 
ment,  but,  under  the  steady,  meaning  glare 
which  was  directed  at  him,  triumph  faded  to 
a  sort  of  wonder,  followed  by  a  vague  sense 
of  uneasiness,  and  he  read  a  command  in  the 
fixed  eyes — a  command  to  silence.  Curiously 
enough  it  reminded  him  that  he  was  in  the 
employ  of  Mr.  Latham,  and  that  there  were 
certain  business  secrets  to  be  protected.  He 
regarded  the  coroner's  physician,  hastily  sum 
moned  for  a  perfunctory  examination. 

"Well?"  demanded  the  chief  again. 

"Nothing — of  this,"  replied  Mr.  Wynne. 
157 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"I  think,  Doctor,"  and  he  addressed  the  phy 
sician,  "that  she  needs  you  more  than  he  does. 
We  know  only  too  well  what's  the  matter  with 
him." 

The  physician  arose  obediently.  Mr. 
Wynne  gathered  up  the  slender,  still  figure 
in  his  arms,  and  bore  it  away  to  another  room. 
The  doctor  bent  over  Doris,  and  tested  the 
fluttering  heart. 

"Only  shock,"  he  said  finally,  when  he 
looked  up.  "She'll  come  around  all  right  in 
a  little  while." 

"Thank  God!"  the  young  man  breathed 
softly. 

He  stooped  and  pressed  reverent  lips  to  the 
marble-white  brow,  then  straightened  up  and, 
after  one  long,  lingering  look  at  her,  turned 
quickly  and  left  the  room. 

"I  have  no  statement  to  make,"  Mr.  Czenki 
was  saying,  in  that  level,  unemotional  way  of 
158 


CAUGHT   IN    THE    NET 

his,   when  Mr.   Wynne   reentered  the  room 
where  lay  the  dead. 

"We  are  to  assume  that  you  are  guilty, 
then?"  demanded  Chief  Arkwright  with  cold 
finality. 

"I  have  nothing  to  say,"  replied  the  ex 
pert.  His  gaze  met  that  of  Mr.  Wynne  for 
a  moment,  then  settled  on  the  venerable  face 
of  the  old  man. 

"Guilty?"  interposed  Mr.  Wynne  quickly. 
"Guilty  of  what?" 

Chief  Arkwright,  without  speaking,  waved 
his  hand  toward  the  body  on  the  floor.  There 
was  a  flash  of  amazement  in  the  young  man's 
face,  a  subtle  bewilderment;  the  diamond  ex 
pert's  countenance  was  expressionless. 

"You  don't  deny  that  you  killed  him?"  per 
sisted  the  chief  accusingly. 

"I  have  nothing  to  say,"  said  the  expert 
again. 

159 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"And  you  don't  deny  that  you  were  Red 
Haney's  accomplice?" 

"I  have  nothing  to  say,"  was  the  monoton 
ous  answer. 

The  chief  shrugged  his  shoulders  impa 
tiently.  Some  illuminating  thought  shone  for 
an  instant  in  Mr.  Wynne's  clear  eyes,  and  he 
nodded  as  if  a  question  in  his  mind  had  been 
answered. 

"Perhaps,  Chief,  there  may  be  some  mis 
take?"  he  protested  half-heartedly.  "Perhaps 
this  gentleman — what  motive  would — " 

"There's  motive  enough,"  interrupted  the 
chief  bruskly.  "We  have  this  man's  descrip 
tion  straight  from  his  accomplice,  Red  Haney, 
even  to  the  scar  on  his  face — "  He  paused 
abruptly,  and  regarded  Mr.  Wynne  through 
half -closed  lids.  "By  the  way,"  he  continued 
deliberately,  "who  are  you?  What  do  you 
know  about  it?" 

160 


CAUGHT   IN   THE    NET 

"My  name  is  Wynne — E.  van  Cortlandt 
Wynne,"  was  the  ready  response.  "I  am  di 
rectly  interested  in  this  case  through  a  long 
standing  friendship  for  Mr.  Kellner  here,  and 
through  the  additional  fact  that  his  grand 
daughter  in  the  adjoining  room  is  soon  to  be 
come  my  wife.'*  There  was  a  little  pause.  "I 
may  add  that  I  live  in  New  York,  and  that 
Miss  Kellner  has  been  stopping  there  for  sev 
eral  days.  She  has  been  accustomed  to  hear 
ing  from  her  grandfather  at  least  once  a  day 
by  telephone,  but  she  was  unable  to  get  an 
answer  either  yesterday  or  to-day,  so  she  came 
to  my  home,  and  together  we  came  out 
here." 

Mr.  Birnes  looked  up  quickly.  It  had  sud 
denly  occurred  to  him  to  wonder  as  to  the 
whereabouts  of  Claflin  and  Sutton,  who  had 
been  on  watch  at  the  Thirty-seventh  Street 
house.  The  young  man  interpreted  the  ex- 
161 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

presslon  of  his  face  aright,  and  favored  him 
with  a  meaning  glance. 

"We  came  alone,"  he  supplemented. 

Mr.  Birnes  silently  pondered  it. 

"All  that  being  true,"  Chief  Arkwright 
suggested  tentatively,  "perhaps  you  can  give 
us  some  information  as  to  the  diamonds  that 
were  stolen?  How  much  were  they  worth? 
How  many  were  there  ?"  He  held  up  the  un 
cut  stones  that  had  been  found  on  the  floor. 

"I  don't  know  the  exact  number,"  was  the 
reply.  "Their  value,  I  should  say,  was  about 
sixty  thousand  dollars.  Except  for  this  little 
house,  and  the  grounds  adjoining,  practically 
all  of  Mr.  Kellner's  money  was  invested  in  dia 
monds.  Those  you  have  there  are  part  of  an 
accumulation  of  many  years,  imported  in  the 
rough,  one  or  two  at  a  time." 

Mr.  Czenki  was  gazing  abstractedly  out  of 
a  window,  but  the  expression  on  his  lean  face 
162 


CAUGHT   IN    THE    NET 

indicated  the  keenest  interest,  and — and  some 
thing  else:  apprehension,  maybe.  The  chief 
stared  straight  into  the  young  man's  eyes  for 
an  instant,  and  then : 

"And  Mr.  Kellner's  family  ?"  he  inquired. 

"There  is  no  one,  except  his  granddaugh 
ter,  Doris." 

Some  change,  sudden  as  it  was  pronounced, 
came  over  the  chief,  and  his  whole  attitude 
altered.  He  dropped  into  a  chair  near  the 
door. 

"Have  a  seat,  Mr.  Wynne,"  he  invited 
courteously,  "and  let's  understand  this  thing 
clearly.  Over  there,  please,"  and  he  indicated 
a  chair  partly  facing  that  in  which  Mr.  Czenki 
sat. 

Mr.  Wynne  sat  down. 

"Now  you  don't  seem  to  believe,"  the  chief 
went  on  pleasantly,  "that  Czenki  here  killed 
Mr.  Kellner?" 

163 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

"Well,  no,"  the  young  man  admitted. 

Mr.  Czenki  glanced  at  him  quickly,  warn- 
ingly.  The  chief  was  not  looking,  but  he 
knew  the  glance  had  passed. 

"And  why  don't  you  believe  it?"  he  con 
tinued. 

"In  the  first  place,"  Mr.  Wynne  began 
without  hesitation,  "the  diamonds  were  worth 
only  about  sixty  thousand  dollars,  and  Mr. 
Czenki  here  draws  a  salary  of  twenty-five 
thousand  dollars  a  year.  The  proportion  is 
wrong,  you  see.  Again,  Mr.  Czenki  is  a  man 
of  unquestioned  integrity.  As  diamond  ex 
pert  of  the  Henry  Latham  Company  he  han 
dles  millions  of  dollars'  worth  of  precious 
stones  each  year,  and  has  practically  unlim 
ited  opportunities  for  theft,  without  murder, 
if  he  were  seeking  to  steal.  He  has  been  with 
that  company  for  several  years,  and  that  fact 
alone  is  certainly  to  his  credit." 
164 


CAUGHT    IN    THE    NET 

"Very  good,"  commented  the  chief  ambig 
uously.  He  paused  an  instant  to  study  this 
little  man  with  an  interest  aroused  by  the  sum 
of  his  salary.  "And  what  of  Haney's  de 
scription?  His  accusation?"  he  asked. 

"Haney  might  have  lied,  you  know,"  re 
torted  Mr.  Wynne.  "Men  in  his  position  have 
been  known  to  lie." 

"I  understood  you  to  say,"  the  chief  re 
sumed,  heedless  of  the  note  of  irony  in  the 
other's  voice,  "that  you  and  Miss  Kellner  arc 
to  be  married?" 

"Yes." 

"And  that  she  is  the  only  heir  of  her  grand 
father?" 

"Yes." 

"Therefore,  at  his  death,  the  diamonds 
would  become  her  property  ?" 

For  one  instant  Mr.  Wynne  seemed 
startled,  and  turned  his  clear  eyes  full  upon 
165 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

his  interrogator,  seeking  the  hidden  meaning. 

"Yes,  but — "  he  began  slowly. 

"That's  true,  isn't  it?"  demanded  the  chief, 
with  quick  violence. 

"Yes,  that's  true,"  Mr.  Wynne  admitted 
calmly. 

"Therefore,  indirectly,  it  would  have  been 
to  your  advantage  if  Mr.  Kellner  had  died  or 
had  been  killed?" 

"In  that  the  diamonds  would  have  come  to 
my  intended  wife,  yes,"  was  the  reply. 

Mr.  Czenki  clasped  and  unclasped  his  thin 
hands  nervously.  His  face  was  again  expres 
sionless,  and  the  beady  eyes  were  fastened  im 
movably  on  Chief  Arkwright's.  Mr.  Birnes 
was  frankly  amazed  at  this  unexpected  turn 
of  the  affair.  Suddenly  Chief  Arkwright 
brought  his  hand  down  on  the  arm  of  his 
chair  with  a  bang. 

"Suppose,  for  the  moment,  that  Red  Haney 
166 


CAUGHT   IN    THE    NET 

lied,  and  that  Mr.  Czenki  is  not  the  murderer, 
then —  As  a  matter  of  fact  your  salary  isn't 
twenty-five  thousand  a  year,  is  it?" 

He  was  on  his  feet  now,  with  blazing  eyes, 
and  one  hand  was  thrust  accusingly  into  Mr. 
Wynne's  face.  It  was  simulation ;  Mr.  Birnes 
understood  it ;  a  police  method  of  exhausting 
possibilities.  There  was  not  the  slightest 
movement  by  Mr.  Wynne  to  indicate  uneasi 
ness  at  the  charge,  not  a  tremor  in  his  voice 
when  he  spoke  again. 

"I  understand  perfectly,  Chief,"  he  re 
marked  coldly.  "Just  what  was  the  time  of 
the  crime,  may  I  ask  ?" 

"Answer  my  question,"  insisted  the  Chief 
thunderously. 

"Now  look  here,  Chief,"  Mr.  Wynne  went 

on  frigidly,  "I  am  not  a  child  to  be  frightened 

into  making  any  absurd  statements.    I  do  not 

draw  a  salary  of  twenty-five  thousand  a  year, 

167 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

no.  I  am  in  business  for  myself,  and  make 
more  than  that.  You  may  satisfy  yourself 
by  examining  the  books  in  my  office  if  you 
like.  By  intimation,  at  least,  you  are  accus 
ing  me  of  murder.  Now  answer  me  a  ques 
tion,  please.  What  was  the  time  of  the 
crime  ?" 


168 


CHAPTER   XV 

THE    TEUTH    IN    PAET 

THE  chief  dropped  back  into  his  chair 
with  the  utmost  complacency.  This  was 
not  the  kind  of  man  with  whom  mere  bluster 
counted. 

"Haney  says  Saturday  morning,"  he  an 
swered.  "THie  coroner's  physician  agrees  with 
that." 

"Yesterday  morning,"  Mr.  Wynne  mused ; 
then,  after  a  moment:  "I  think,  Chief,  you 
know  Mr.  Birnes  here?  And  that  you  would 
accept  a  statement  of  his  as  correct?" 

"Yes,"  the  chief  agreed  with  a  glance  at 
Mr.  Birnes. 

"Mr.  Birnes,  where  was  I  all  day  Satur- 
169 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

day?"  Mr.  Wynne  queried,  without  so  much 
as  looking  around  at  him. 

"You  were  in  your  house  from  eleven 
o'clock  Friday  night  until  fifteen  minutes  of 
nine  o'clock  Saturday  morning,"  was  the  re 
sponse.  "You  left  there  at  that  time,  and 
took  the  surface  car  at  Thirty-fourth  Street  to 
your  office.  You  left  your  office  at  five  min 
utes  of  one,  took  luncheon  alone  at  the  Sava- 
rin,  and  returned  to  your  office  at  two  o'clock. 
You  remained  there  until  five,  or  a  few  min 
utes  past,  then  returned  home.  At  night 
you — " 

"Is  that  sufficient?"  interrupted  Mr. 
Wynne.  "Does  that  constitute  an  alibi?" 

Chief  Arkwright  seemed  to  be  puzzled.  He 
glanced  from  Mr.  Birnes  to  Mr.  Wynne,  then 
back  again. 

"Yes,"  he  admitted ;  "but  how  do  you  know 


all  this,  Birnes  ?" 


170 


THE    TRUTH    IN    PART 

"Mr.  Birnes  and  the  men  of  his  agency 
have  favored  me  with  the  most  persistent  at 
tentions  during  the  last  few  days,"  Mr. 
Wynne  continued  promptly.  "He  has  had 
two  men  constantly  on  watch  at  my  office,  day 
and  night,  and  two  others  constantly  on  watch 
at  my  home,  day  and  night.  There  are  two 
there  now — one  in  a  rear  room  of  the  base 
ment,  and  another  in  the  pantry,  with  the 
doors  locked  on  the  outside.  Their  names  are 
Claflin  and  Sutton !" 

So,  that  was  it!  It  came  home  to  Mr. 
Birnes  suddenly.  Claflin  and  Sutton  had  been 
tricked  into  the  house  on  some  pretext,  and 
locked  in !  Confound  their  stupidity ! 

"Why  are  they  locked  up?"  demanded  the 
chief,  with  kindling  interest.  "Why  have 
you  been  watched?" 

"I  think,  perhaps,  Mr.  Birnes  will  agree 
with  me  when  I  say  that  that  has  nothing 
171 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

whatever  to  do  with  this  crime,"  replied  Mr. 
Wynne  easily. 

"That's  for  me  to  decide,"  declared  the 
chief  bluntly. 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Mr.  Czenki  was 
leaning  forward  in  his  chair,  gripping  the 
arms  fiercely,  with  his  lips  pressed  into  a  thin 
line.  It  was  only  by  a  supreme  effort  that  he 
held  himself  in  control ;  and  the  lean,  scarred 
face  was  working  strangely. 

"Well,  if  you  insist  on  knowing,"  observed 
Mr.  Wynne  slowly,  "I  suppose  I'll  have  to' 
tell  all  of  it.  In  the  first  place—" 

"Don't!"  It  came  finally,  the  one  word, 
from  Mr.  Czenki's  half -closed  lips,  a  smoth 
ered  explosion  which  drew  every  eye  upon 
him. 

Mr.  Wynne  turned  slightly  in  his   chair 
and  regarded  the  diamond  expert  with  an  ex 
pression  of  astonishment  on  his  face.     The 
172 


THE    TRUTH    IN    PART 

beady  black  eyes  were  all  aglitter  with  the 
effort  of  repression,  and  some  intangible  mes 
sage  flashed  in  them. 

"In  the  first  place,"  resumed  Mr.  Wynne, 
as  if  there  had  been  no  interruption,  "Mr. 
Kellner  here — " 

"Don't !"  the  expert  burst  out  again  desper 
ately.  "Don't!  It  means  ruin — absolute 
ruin!" 

"Mr.  Kellner  had  those  diamonds — about 
sixty  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  them,"  Mr. 
Wynne  continued  distinctly.  "Mr.  Kellner 
decided  to  sell  some  diamonds.  One  of  the 
quickest  and  most  satisfactory  methods  of 
selling  rough  gems,  such  as  those  you  have  in 
your  hand,  Chief,  is  to  offer  them  directly  to 
the  men  who  deal  in  them.  I  went  to  Mr. 
Henry  Latham,  and  other  jewelers  of  New 
York,  on  behalf  of  Mr.  Kellner,  and  offered 
them  a  quantity  of  diamonds.  It  may  be  that 
173 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

they  regarded  the  quantity  I  offered  as  un 
usual  ;  that  I  don't  know,  but  I  would  venture 
the  conjecture  that  they  did." 

He  paused  a  moment.  Mr.  Czenki's  face, 
again  grown  expressionless,  was  turned  to 
ward  the  light  of  the  window;  Chief  Ark- 
wright  was  studying  it  shrewdly. 

"Diamond  merchants,  of  course,  have  to  be 
careful,"  the  young  man  went  on  smoothly. 
"They  can't  afford  to  buy  whatever  is  offered 
by  people  whom  they  don't  know.  They  had 
reason,  too,  to  believe  that  I  was  not  acting 
for  myself  alone.  What  was  more  natural, 
therefore,  than  that  they  should  have  called 
in  Mr.  Birnes,  and  the  men  of  his  agency,  to 
find  out  about  me,  and,  if  possible,  to  find  out 
whom  I  represented,  so  they  might  locate  the 
supply?  I  Avouldn't  tell  them,  because  it  was 
not  desirable  that  they  should  deal  directly 
with  Mr.  Kellner,  who  was  old  and  childish, 


THE    TRUTH    IN    PART 

and  lacking,  perhaps,  in  appreciation  of  the 
real  value  of  diamonds. 

"The  result  of  all  this  was  that  the  diamond 
dealers  placed  me  under  strict  surveillance. 
My  house  was  watched ;  my  office  was  watched. 
My  mail,  going  and  coming,  was  subjected 
to  scrutiny ;  my  telephone  calls  were  traced ; 
telegrams  opened  and  read.  I  had  anticipated 
all  this,  of  course,  and  was  in  communication 
with  Mr.  Kellner  here  only  by  carrier- 
pigeons."  He  glanced  meaningly  at  Mr. 
Birnes,  who  was  utterly  absorbed  in  the  re 
cital.  "Those  carrier-pigeons  were  not  ex 
changed  by  express,  because  the  records 
would  have  furnished  a  clew  to  Mr.  Birnes' 
men;  I  personally  took  them  back  and  forth 
in  a  suitcase  before  I  approached  Mr.  Latham 
with  the  original  proposition." 

He  was  giving  categorical  answers  to  a 
few  of  the  multitude  of  questions  to  which  Mr. 
175 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

Birnes  had  been  seeking  answers.  The  tense 
expression  about  Mr.  Czenki's  eyes  was  dissi 
pated,  and  he  sighed  a  little. 

"I  saw  the  Red  Haney  affair  in  the  news 
papers  this  morning,  as  you  will  know,"  he 
continued  after  a  moment.  "It  was  desirable 
that  I  should  come  here  with  Miss  Kellner,  but 
it  was  not  desirable,  even  under  those  circum 
stances,  that  I  should  permit  myself  to  be 
followed.  That's  how  it  happens  that  Mr. 
Claflin  and  Mr.  Sutton  are  now  locked  up  in 
my  house."  Again  there  was  a  pause.  "Mr. 
Birnes,  I  know,  will  be  glad  to  confirm  my 
statement  of  the  case  in  so  far  as  his  instruc 
tions  from  Mr.  Latham  and  the  other  gentle 
men  interested  bear  on  it?" 

Chief  Arkwright  glanced  at  the  detective 
inquiringly. 

"That's  right,"  Mr.  Birnes  admitted  with 
an  uncertain  nod — "that  is,  so  far  as  my  in- 
176 


THE    TRUTH    IN    PART 

structions  go.  I  understood,  though,  that 
the  diamonds  were  worth  more  than  sixty 
thousand  dollars;  in  fact,  that  there  might 
have  been  a  million  dollars'  worth  of  them." 

"A  million  dollars!"  repeated  Chief  Ark- 
wright  in  amazement.  "A  million  dollars !" 
he  repeated.  He  turned  fiercely  upon  Mr. 
Wynne.  "What  about  that  ?"  he  demanded. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  Mr.  Birnes 
understood"  replied  the  young  man,  with 
marked  emphasis.  "But  it's  preposterous  on 
the  face  of  it,  isn't  it?  Would  a  man  with  a 
million  dollars'  worth  of  diamonds  live  in  a 
hovel  like  this?" 

The  chief  considered  the  matter  reflectively 
for  a  minute  or  more,  the  while  his  keen  eyes 
alternately  searched  the  faces  of  Mr.  Wynne 
and  Mr.  Czenki. 

"It  would  depend  on  the  man,  of  course," 
he  said  at  last.  And  then  some  new  idea  was 
177 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

born  within  him.  "Your  direct  connection 
with  the  crime  seems  to  be  disproved,  Mr. 
Wynne,"  he  remarked  slowly ;  "and  if  we  ad 
mit  his  innocence,"  he  jerked  a  thumb  at  the 
expert,  "there  remains  yet  another  view 
point.  Do  you  see  it?" 

The  young  man  turned  upon  him  quickly. 

"Does  it  occur  to  you  that  every  argu 
ment  I  advanced  to  furnish  you  with  a  motive 
for  the  crime  might  be  applied  with  equal 
weight  against — against  Miss  Kellner?" 

"Doris !"  flamed  Mr.  Wynne.  For  the  first 
time  his  perfect  self-possession  deserted  him, 
and  he  came  to  his  feet  with  gripping  hands. 
"Why — why — !  What  are  you  talking 
about?" 

"Sit  down,"  advised  the  chief  quietly. 

Mr.  Czenki  glanced  at  them  once  uneasily, 
then  resumed  his  fixed  stare  out  of  the  window. 

"Sit  down,"  said  the  chief  again. 
178 


THE    TRUTH    IN    PART 

Mr.  Wynne  glared  at  him  for  an  instant, 
then  dropped  back  into  his  chair.  His  hands 
were  clenched  desperately,  and  a  slight  flush 
in  his  clean-cut  face  showed  the  fight  he  was 
making  to  restrain  himself. 

"All  the  property  this  old  man  owned,  in 
cluding  the  diamonds,  would  become  her  prop 
erty  in  the  event  of  his  death — or  murder," 
the  chief  added  mercilessly.  "That's  true, 
isn't  it?" 

"But  when  she  entered  this  room  her  every 
act  testified  to  her  innocence,"  Mr.  Wynne 
burst  out  passionately. 

The  chief  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"She  has  been  living  at  a  little  hotel  in 
Irving  Place,"  the  young  man  rushed  on. 
"The  people  there  can  satisfy  you  as  to  her 
whereabouts  on  Saturday?" 

Again  the  chief  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"And  remember,  please,  that  the  best  an- 
179 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

swer  to  all  that  is  that  Haney  had  the  dia 
monds  !" 

"It  doesn't  necessarily  follow,  Mr.  Wynne," 
said  the  other  steadily,  "that  she  committed 
the  crime  with  her  own  hands.  It  comes  down 
simply  to  this :  If  there  were  only  sixty  thou 
sand  dollars'  worth  of  diamonds  then  the  one 
motive  which  Czenki  might  have  had  is  elimi 
nated;  because  Haney  had  practically  fifty 
thousand  dollars'  worth  of  them,  and  here  are 
some  others.  There  would  have  been  no  share 
for  your  expert  here.  And  again,  if  there 
were  only  sixty  thousand  dollars'  worth  of 
the  diamonds  you  or  Miss  Kellner  would  have 
been  the  only  persons  to  benefit  by  this  death." 

"But  Haney  had  those!"  protested  Mr. 
Wynne. 

"Just  what  I'm  saying,"  agreed  the  other 
complacently.  "Therefore  there  were  more 
than  sixty  thousand  dollars'  worth.  However 
180 


THE    TRUTH    IN    PART 

we  look  at  it,  whoever  may  have  been  Haney's 
accomplice,  that  point  seems  settled." 

"Or  else  Haney  lied,"  declared  Mr. 
Wynne  flatly.  "If  Haney  came  here  alone, 
killed  this  old  man  and  stole  the  diamonds 
there  would  be  none  of  these  questions,  would 
there?" 

Mr.  Birnes,  who  had  listened  silently, 
arose  suddenly  and  left  the  room.  Mr. 
Wynne's  last  suggestion  awakened  a  new 
train  of  thought  in  the  police  official's  mind, 
and  he  considered  it  silently  for  a  moment. 
Finally  he  shook  his  head. 

"The  fact  remains,"  he  said,  as  if  reassur 
ing  himself,  "that  Haney  described  an  ac 
complice,  that  that  description  fits  Czenki 
perfectly,  that  Czenki  has  refused  to  defend 
himself  or  even  make  a  denial;  that  he  has 
drawn  suspicion  upon  himself  by  everything 
he  has  done  and  said  since  he  has  been  here, 
181 


THE   DIAMOND    MASTER 

even  by  the  strange  manner  of  his  appearance 
at  this  house.  Therefore,  there  were  more  dia 
monds,  and  he  got  his  share  of  them." 

"Hello!"  came  in  Mr.  Birnes'  voice  from 

the  hall.     "Give  me  21845  River,  New  York. 

.     .      Yes.      ...      Is   Mr.    Latham 

there?     .     .     .     Yes,    Mr.    Henry    Latham 

99 

•          •          •          • 

Again  Mr.  Wynne's  self-possession  for 
sook  him,  and  he  came  to  his  feet,  evidently 
with  the  intention  of  interrupting  that  con 
versation.  He  started  forward,  with  gritting 
teeth,  and  simultaneously  Chief  Arkwright, 
Detective-Sergeant  Connelly  and  Mr.  Czenki 
laid  restraining  hands  upon  him.  Something 
in  the  expert's  grip  on  his  wrist  caused  him  to 
stop,  and  cease  a  futile  struggle;  then  came 
a  singular  expression  of  resignation  about  the 
mouth  and  he  sat  down  again. 

"Hello!  This  Mr.  Latham?  .  .  .  This 
182 


THE    TRUTH    IN    PART 

is  Detective  Birnes.  .  .  .  I've  been  able 
to  locate  some  diamonds,  but  it's  necessary  to 
know  something  of  the  quantity  of  those  you 
mentioned.  You  remember  Mr.  Schultze  said 
something  about  .  .  .  Yes.  . 
Yes.  .  .  .  Oh,  there  were?  .  .  .  Unex 
pected  developments,  yes.  .  .  .  I'll  call  and 
see  you  to-night  about  eight.  .  .  .  Yes. 
.  .  .  Good-by!" 

Mr.  Birnes  reentered  the  room,  his  face 
aglow  with  triumph.  Mr.  Wynne  glanced 
almost  hopelessly  at  Mr.  Czenki,  then  turned 
again  to  the  detective. 

"I  should  say  there  were  more  than  sixty 
thousand  dollars'  worth  of  them,"  Mr.  Birnes 
blurted.  "There  were  at  least  a  million  dol 
lars'  worth.  Mr.  Schultze  intimated  as  much 
to  me ;  now  Mr.  Latham  confirms  it." 

Chief  Arkwright  turned  and  glared  scowl- 
ingly  upon  the  diamond  expert.     The  beady 
183 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

black  eyes  were  aglint  with  some  emotion 
which  he  failed  to  rccid. 

"Where  are  they,  Czenki?"  demanded  the 
chief  harshly. 

"I  have  nothing  to  say,"  replied  Mr. 
Czenki  softly. 

"So  your  disappearance  Friday  night,  and 
your  absence  all  day  yesterday  did  have  to 
do  with  this  old  man's  death?"  said  the  chief, 
directly  accusing  him. 

"I  have  nothing  to  say,"  murmured  Mr. 
Czenki. 

"That  settles  it,  gentlemen,"  declared  the 
chief  with  an  air  of  finality.  "Czenki,  I 
charge  you  with  the  murder  of  Mr.  Kellner 
here.  Anything  you  may  say  will  be  used 
against  you.  Come  along,  now;  don't  make 
any  trouble." 


184 


CHAPTER   XVI 

MR.    CZENKI    EXPLAINS 

FAIRLY  drunk  with  excitement,  his  lean 
face,  usually  expressionless,  now  flushed 
and  working  strangely,  and  his  beady  black 
eyes  aglitter,  Mr.  Czenki  reeled  into  the  study 
where  Mr.  Latham  and  Mr.  Schultze  sat 
awaiting  Mr.  Birnes.  He  raised  one  hand, 
enjoining  silence,  closed  the  door,  locked  it 
and  placed  the  key  in  his  pocket,  after  which 
he  turned  upon  Mr.  Latham. 

"He  makes  them,  man!  He  makes  them!" 
he  burst  out  between  gritting  teeth.  "Don't 
you  understand?  He  makes  them!" 

Mr.  Latham,  astonished  and  a  little  star 
tled,  came  to  his  feet;  the  phlegmatic  Ger- 
185 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

man  sat  still,  staring  at  the  expert  without 
comprehension.  Mr.  Czenki's  thin  fist  was 
clenched  under  his  employer's  nose,  and  the 
jeweler  drew  back  a  little,  vaguely  alarmed. 

"I  don't  understand  what — "  he  began. 

"The  diamonds !"  Mr.  Czenki  interrupted, 
and  the  long-pent-up  excitement  within  him 
burst  into  a  flame  of  impatience.  "The  dia 
monds!  He  makes  them!  Don't  you  see? 
Diamonds !  He  manufactures  them !" 

"Gott  in  Himmel!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Schultze, 
and  it  was  anything  but  an  irreverent  ejacula 
tion.  He  arose.  "Der  miracle  has  come  to 
pass !  Ve  might  haf  known !  Ve  might  haf 
known !" 

"Millions  and  millions  of  dollars'  worth  of 
them,  even  billions,  for  all  we  know,"  the  ex 
pert  rushed  on  in  incoherent  violence.  "A 
sum  greater  than  all  the  combined  wealth  of 
the  world  in  the  hands  of  one  man !  Think  of 
186 


MR.    CZENKI    EXPLAINS 

it !"  Mr.  Latham  only  gazed  at  him  blankly, 
and  he  turned  instinctively  to  the  one  who  un 
derstood — Mr.  Schultze.  "Think  of  the  mind 
that  achieved  it,  man !" 

He  collapsed  into  a  chair  and  sat  looking 
at  the  floor,  his  fingers  writhing  within  one 
another,  muttering  to  himself.  Mr.  Latham 
was  a  cold,  sane,  unimaginative  man  of  busi 
ness.  As  yet  the  full  import  of  it  all  hadn't 
reached  him.  He  stared  dumbly,  first  at  Mr. 
Czenki,  then  at  Mr.  Schultze.  There  was  not 
even  incredulity  in  the  look,  only  faint  amaze 
ment  that  two  such  well-balanced  men  should 
have  gone  mad  at  once.  At  last  the  German 
importer  turned  upon  him  flatly. 

"Why  don'd  you  ged  egzited  aboud  id, 
Laadham?"  he  demanded.  "He  iss  all  righd, 
nod  crazy,"  he  added  with  whimsical  assur 
ance.  "He  iss  delling  you  dat  dose  diamonds 
are  made — made  like  doughnuds,  mitoud  der 
187 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

hole ;  manufactured,  pud  togedher.  Don'd 
you  ged  id?" 

He  ran  off  into  guttural  German  exple 
tives;  and  slowly,  slowly  the  idea  began  to 
dawn  upon  Mr.  Latham.  The  diamonds  Mr. 
Wynne  had  shown  were  not  real,  then;  they 
were  artificial !  It  was  some  sort  of  a  swindle ! 
Of  course !  But  the  experts  had  agreed  that 
they  were  diamonds — real  diamonds !  Per 
haps  they  had  been  deceived,  or — by  George ! 
Did  these  two  men  mean  to  say  that  they  were 
real  diamonds,  but  that  they  were  manufac 
tured?  Mr.  Latham's  tidy  little  imagination 
balked  at  that.  Absurd!  Whoever  heard  of 
a  diamond  as  big  as  the  Koh-i-noor,  or  the  Re 
gent,  or  the  Orloff  being  made?  They  were 
crazy — the  pair  of  them ! 

"Do  I  understand,"  he  demanded  in  a  tone 
of  deliberate  annoyance,  "that  you,  Czenki, 
and  you,  Schultze,  expect  me  to  believe  that 
188 


MR.    CZENKI    EXPLAINS 

those  diamonds  we  saw  were  not  natural,  but 
were  real  diamonds  turned  out  by  machinery 
in  a — in  a  diamond  factory?  Is  that  what 
you  are  driving  at?" 

"Das  iss!"  declared  the  German  bluntly. 
"Id  vas  coming  in  dime,  Laadham,  id  vas 
coming,  of  course.  Und  I  haf  always  noticed 
dat  whatever  iss  coming  does  come." 

"Made,  made — made  as  you  make  marbles," 
Mr.  Czenki  repeated  monotonously.  "Yes,  it 
had  to  come,  but — but  imagine  the  insupera 
ble  difficulties  that  one  brain  had  to  sur 
mount!"  He  passed  a  thin  hand  across  his 
flushed  brow,  and  was  thoughtfully  silent. 

"I  don't  believe  it,"  asserted  Mr.  Latham 
tartly.  "It's  impossible !  I  don't  believe  it !" 
And  sat  down. 

"Id  don'd  madder  much  whedher  you  belief 
id  or  nod,"  remarked  the  German  in  a  tone  of 
resignation.  "If  id  iss,  id  iss.  Und  all  dose 
189 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

diamonds  in  your  place  und  mine  are  nod 
worth  much  more  by  der  bushel  as  potatoes." 

Mr.  Latham  turned  away  from  him,  half 
angrily,  and  glared  at  the  expert,  who  was 
still  regarding  the  floor. 

"What  do  you  know  about  this,  anyway, 
Czenki?"  he  demanded.  "How  do  you  know 
he  makes  them?  Have  you  seen  him  make 
them?" 

Thus  directly  addressed  Mr.  Czenki  looked 
up,  and  the  living  flame  of  wonder  within  his 
eyes  flickered  and  died.  In  silence,  for  a  min 
ute  or  more,  he  studied  the  unconcealed  skep 
ticism  in  his  employer's  face,  and  then  asked 
slowly : 

"Do  you  know  what  diamonds  are,  Mr. 
Latham?" 

"There  is  some  theory  that  they  are  pure 
carbon,  crystallized." 

"They  are  that,"  declared  the  expert  impa- 
190 


MR.    CZENKI    EXPLAINS 

tiently.  "You  know  that  diamonds  have  been 
made?" 

"Oh,  I've  read  something  about  it,  yes ;  but 
what  I—" 

"Every  school-boy  knows  how  to  make  a 
diamond,  Mr.  Latham.  If  pure  carbon  is 
heated  to  approximately  five  thousand  degrees 
Fahrenheit,  and  simultaneously  subjected  to  a 
pressure  of  approximately  six  thousand  tons 
to  the  square  inch,  it  becomes  a  diamond.  And 
there's  no  theory  about  that — that's  a  fact! 
The  difficulty  has  always  been  to  apply  the 
knowledge  we  have  in  a  commercially  practi 
cable  way — in  other  words,  to  isolate  a  carbon 
that  is  absolutely  pure,  and  invent  a  method 
of  applying  the  heat  and  pressure  simultane 
ously.  It  has  been  done,  Mr.  Latham ;  it  has 
been  done!  Don't  you  understand  what  it 
means  to — " 

With  an  effort  he  repressed  the  returning 
191 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

excitement  which  found  vent  in  a  rising  voice 
and  quick,  nervous  gestures  of  the  hands. 
After  a  moment  he  went  on : 

"Half  a  score  of  scientists  have  made  dia 
monds,  minute  particles  no  larger  than  the 
point  of  a  pin.  Professor  Henri  Moissan,  of 
Paris,  went  further,  and  by  the  use  of  an  elec 
tric  furnace  produced  diamonds  as  large  as  a 
pinhead.  You  may  remember  that  when  I 
first  met  Mr.  Wynne  he  inquired  if  I  had  not 
done  some  special  work  for  Professor  Mois 
san.  I  had ;  I  tested  the  diamonds  he  made — 
and  ihey  were  diamonds!  I  dare  say  the  sug 
gestion  Mr.  Wynne  conveyed  to  me  by  that 
question — that  is,  the  suggestion  of  manufac 
tured  diamonds — had  been  carefully  planned, 
for  he  is  a  wonderful  young  man,  Mr.  Wynne 
— a  wonderful  young  man."  He  paused  a 
moment.  "We  know  that  he  has  millions  and 
millions  of  dollars'  worth  of  them — we  know 
192 


MR.    CZENKI    EXPLAINS 

because  we  saw  them — and  who  can  tell  how 
many  billions  more  there  are?  The  one  man 
holds  in  his  hand  the  power  to  overturn  the 
money  values  of  the  earth !" 

"But  how  do  you  know  he  makes  them?" 
demanded  Mr.  Latham,  returning  to  the  main 
question. 

"He  suggested  it  by  his  question,"  Mr. 
Czenki  went  on.  "That  suggestion  lingered 
in  my  mind.  When  the  detective,  Mr.  Birnes, 
reported  that  Mr.  Wynne  was  an  importer  of 
brown  sugar  I  was  on  the  point  of  advancing 
a  theory  then  that  the  diamonds  were  manu 
factured,  because  of  all  known  substances 
burnt  brown  sugar  is  richest  in  carbon.  But 
you,  Mr.  Latham,  had  discredited  a  previous 
suggestion  of  mine,  and  I — I — well,  I  didn't 
suggest  it.  Instead,  that  night  I  personally 
began  an  investigation  to  see  what  disposition 
was  made  of  the  sugar.  I  found  that  the 
193 


THE    DIAMOND   MASTER 

ships  discharged  their  cargoes  in  Hoboken, 
that  the  sugar  was  there  loaded  on  barges, 
and  those  barges  hauled  up  a  small  stream 
to  the  little  town  of  Coaldale,  all  consigned  to 
a  Mr.  Hugo  Kellner. 

"It  took  Friday,  all  day  Saturday,  and  a 
great  part  of  to-day  to  learn  all  this.  This 
afternoon  I  went  to  see  Mr.  Kellner.  I  found 
him  murdered."  He  stated  it  merely  as  an  in 
convenient  incident.  "In  the  room  with  the 
body  were  Mr.  Birnes,  Chief  Arkwright  of 
the  New  York  police,  and  another  New  York 
detective.  I  had  glanced  at  the  story  of  Red 
Haney  and  the  diamonds  in  the  morning  pa 
pers,  and  from  what  I  knew,  and  from  Mr. 
Birnes'  presence,  I  surmised  something  of  the 
truth.  I  was  instantly  placed  under  arrest 
for  murder — the  murder  of  this  man  I  had 
never  seen — the  real  diamond  master,  the  man 
who  achieved  it  all." 

194 


MR.    CZENKI    EXPLAINS 

He  was  silent  a  moment,  as  if  from  infinite 
weariness. 

"...  Mr.  Wynne  came,  and  a  Miss 
Kellner,  granddaughter  of  the  dead  man. 
.  .  .  He  saw  me,  and  understood  .  .  . 
between  us  we  contrived  that  I  should  be  taken 
away  as  the  murderer,  and  so  prevent  an  im 
mediate  search  of  the  house.  ...  I 
made  no  denial.  ...  I  permitted  myself 
to  be  taken  .  .  .  some  mistake  as  to 
identity.  ...  I  proved  an  alibi  by  the 
shipping  men  in  Hoboken  .  .  .  the  dia 
monds  are  there,  untold  millions  of  dollars' 
worth  of  them  .  .  .  the  diamond  master 
is  dead!" 

Mr.  Latham  had  been  listening,  as  if  dazed, 
to  the  hurried,  somewhat  disconnected,  narra 
tive  ;  Mr.  Schultze,  keener  to  comprehend  all 
that  the  story  meant,  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"Den  if  all  dose  men  know  all  he  has  told 
195 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

us,  Laadham,"  he  remarked  finally,  "our  dia 
monds  are  nod  worth  any  more  as  potatoes 
cHretty" 

"But  they  don't  know,"  Mr.  Czenki  burst 
out.  fiercely.  "Don't  you  understand?  Ha- 
ney,  or  somebody,  killed  Mr.  Kellner  and  stole 
some  uncut  diamonds — you  must  have  seen 
the  newspaper  account  of  it  to-day.  The  New 
York  police  traced  Haney's  course  to  Coal- 
dale  and  to  that  house.  But  all  they  know  is 
that  sixty  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  uncut 
stones  were  stolen.  There  was  not  even  a  sug 
gestion  to  them  of  the  millions  and  millions 
of  dollars'  worth  that  were  manufactured. 
Don't  you  understand?  I  permitted  myself 
to  be  accused  and  arrested,  knowing  I  could 
establish  an  alibi,  in  order  to  lead  them  away 
from  there  and  gain  time,  at  least,  to  give 
Mr.  Wynne  an  opportunity  of  hiding  the 
other  diamonds,  if  they  were  there.  He  un- 
196 


MR.    CZENKI   EXPLAINS 

derstood  what  I  was  trying  to  do,  and  fell  in 
with  the  plan.  He  knew  that  /  knew  the  dia 
monds  were  made.  Mr.  Birnes  doesn't  know ; 
no  one  knows  but  you  and  me  and  Mr.  Wynne, 
and  perhaps  the  girl!  But,  don't  you  see,  if 
you  don't  accept  the  proposition  he  made  the 
diamond  market  of  the  world  is  ruined?  You 
are  ruined !" 

"But  how  do  you  know  they  are  made?"  in 
sisted  Mr.  Latham  doggedly.  "You've  never 
seen  them  made,  have  you?" 

"Mein  Gott,  Laadham,  how  do  you  know 
when  you  haf  der  boil  on  der  pack  of  your 
neck?  You  can'd  zee  him,  ain'd  id?"  Mr. 
Schultze  turned  to  Mr.  Czenki.  "Der  dhree 
of  us  vill  go  und  zee  Mr.  Vynne.  Id  iss  der 
miracle !  Vass  iss,  iss,  und  id  don'd  do  any 
good  to  say  id  ain'd." 


197 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE    GREAT    CUBE 

A  CUBE  of  solid,  polished  steel,  some 
twenty  feet  square,  set  on  a  spreading 
base  of  concrete,  and  divided  perpendicularly 
down  the  middle  into  Titanic  halves,  these  be 
ing  snugly  fitted  one  to  the  other  by  a  series  of 
triangular  corrugations,  a  variation  of  the  fa 
miliar  tongue  and  groove.  Interlacing  the 
ponderous  mass,  from  corner  to  corner,  were 
huge  steel  bolts,  and  the  hulking  heads  of  more 
bolts,  some  forty  on  each  of  the  four  sides, 
showed  that  the  whole  might  be  split  into 
halves  at  will,  and  readily  made  whole  again, 
one  enormous  side  sliding  back  and  forth  on  a 
short  track. 

198 


THE    GREAT   CUBE 

In  the  two  undivided  faces  of  the  cube,  rela 
tively  squaring  the  center,  were  four  borings 
somewhat  smaller  in  diameter  than  an  ordi 
nary  pencil,  and  extending  through;  and  di 
rectly  in  the  center  was  focused  a  network  of 
insulated  wires  which  dropped  down  out  of 
the  gloom  overhead.  In  the  other  two  sides 
of  the  great  cube,  just  where  the  dividing 
lines  of  the  halves  came,  were  the  funnel-like 
mouths  of  a  two-inch  boring.  This,  too,  ex 
tended  straight  through. 

Directly  opposite  each  of  the  two  mouths,  a 
dozen  feet  away,  was  mounted  a  peculiarly- 
constructed  heavy  gun  of  the  naval  type.  In 
a  general  sort  of  way  these  were  not  unlike 
twelve-inch  ordnance,  but  the  breech  was  much 
larger  in  proportion,  the  barrel  longer,  and 
the  bore  only  two  instead  of  twelve  inches. 
The  mountings  were  high,  and  the  adjust 
ment  so  delicate  that,  looking  into  the  open 
199 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

breech  of  one  gun,  the  bore  through  the  twen 
ty-foot  cube  and  through  the  barrel  of  the 
gun  on  the  other  side  seemed  to  be  continuous. 
"This  is  the  diamond-making  machine,  gen 
tlemen,"  said  Mr.  Wynne,  and  he  indicated  to 
Mr.  Latham,  Mr.  Schultze  and  Mr.  Czenki  the 
cube  and  the  two  guns.  "It  is  perfectly  sim 
ple  in  construction,  has  enormous  powers  of 
resistance,  as  you  may  guess,  and  is  as  deli 
cately  fitted  as  a  watch,  being  regulated  by 
electric  power.  This  cube  is  the  solution  of 
the  high-pressure,  high-temperature  problem, 
which  was  only  one  of  the  many  seemingly  in 
superable  difficulties  to  be  overcome.  When 
the  bolts  are  withdrawn  one  half  slides  back ; 
when  the  bolts  are  in  position  it  is  as  solid  as 
if  it  were  in  one  piece,  and  perfectly  able  to 
withstand  a  force  greater  than  the  ingenuity 
of  man  has  ever  before  been  able  to  contrive. 
This  force  is  a  combination  of  a  heat  one-half 
200 


THE    GREAT   CUBE 

that  of  the  sun  on  its  surface,  and  a  head-on 
impact  of  two  one-hundred-pound  projectiles 
fired  less  than  forty  feet  apart  with  an  enor 
mous  charge  of  cordite,  and  possessing  an  in 
itial  velocity  greater  than  was  ever  recorded 
in  gunnery. 

"This  vast  force  centers  in  a  sort  of  fur 
nace  in  the  middle  of  the  cube.  The  furnace 
is  round,  about  three  feet  long  and  three  feet 
in  diameter,  built  of  half  a  dozen  fire-resisting 
substances  in  layers,  perforated  for  electric 
wires,  with  an  opening  through  it  lengthwise 
of  the  exact  size  of  the  borings  in  the  guns 
and  in  the  cube.  It  fits  snugly  into  a  recepta 
cle  cut  out  for  it  in  the  center  of  the  cube,  and 
is  intended  to  protect  the  steel  of  the  cube 
proper  from  the  intense  heat.  This  heat 
reaches  the  furnace  by  electric  wires  which 
enter  the  cube  from  the  sides,  as  you  see,  being 
brought  here  by  a  conduit  along  the  river-bed 
201 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

from  a  large  power-plant  five  miles  away. 
Twenty-eight  large  wires  are  necessary  to 
bring  it;  I  own  the  power-plant,  ostensibly 
for  the  operation  of  a  small  sugar  refinery.  I 
may  add  that  the  furnace  is  a  variation  of  the 
principle  employed  by  Professor  Moissan,  in 
Paris."  He  turned  to  Mr.  Czenki.  "You  may 
remember  having  heard  me  mention  him?" 

"I  remember," the  expert  acquiesced  grimly. 

"Now,  pure  carbon  is  vaporized,  as  you 
perhaps  know,  at  a  fraction  less  than  five 
thousand  degrees  Fahrenheit,"  Mr.  Wynne 
continued.  "A  carbon  not  merely  chemically 
pure  but  absolutely  pure,  in  highly  com 
pressed  disks,  is  packed  in  the  furnace,  the 
furnace  placed  within  the  cube,  the  ends  of 
the  two-inch  opening  in  the  furnace  being 
blocked  to  prevent  expansion,  the  cube  closed, 
the  bolts  fastened,  and  heat  applied,  for  sev 
eral  minutes — a  heat,  gentlemen,  of  five  thou- 


THE    GREAT    CUBE 

sand  two  hundred  and  eighty  degrees  Fahren 
heit.  The  heat  of  the  sun  is  only  about  ten 
thousand  degrees.  And  then  the  pressure  of 
about  seven  thousand  tons  to  the  square  inch 
is  added  by  means  of  the  two  guns.  In  other 
words,  gentlemen,  pure  carbon,  vaporized,  is 
caught  between  two  projectiles  which  enter 
the  cube  simultaneously  from  opposite  sides, 
being  fired  by  electricity.  The  impact  is  so 
terrific  that  what  had  been  two  feet  of  com 
pressed  carbon  is  instantly  condensed  into  an 
irregular  disk,  one  inch  or  an  inch  and  a  half 
thick.  And  that  disk,  gentlemen,  is  a  dia 
mond! 

"The  violence  of  the  operation,  coupled 
with  the  intense  heat,  fuses  everything — fur 
nace,  projectiles,  electric  wires,  fire-brick, 
even  asbestos,  into  a  single  mass.  The  cube 
is  opened,  and  this  mass,  white-hot,  is  dropped 
into  cold  water.  This  increases  the  pressure 
203 


until  the  mass  is  cool.  Then  it  is  broken  away, 
and  in  the  center  is  a  diamond — as  big  as  a 
biscuit,  gentlemen!  Four  small  bores  lead 
from  the  two-inch  bore  through  the  cube,  and 
permit  the  escape  of  air  as  the  projectiles  en 
ter.  There  is  no  rebound  because  the  elastic 
quality  of  the  carbon  is  crushed  out  of  exist 
ence — driven,  I  may  say,  into  the  diamond  it 
self.  Of  course  the  furnace,  the  two  projec 
tiles  and  the  connecting  electric  wires  are  all 
destroyed  at  each  charge,  which  brings  the 
total  cost  of  the  operation  to  a  little  more 
than  eight  hundred  dollars,  including  nearly 
three  tons  of  brown  sugar.  The  diamond  re 
sulting  is  worth  at  least  a  million  when  broken 
up  for  cutting,  sometimes  even  two  millions. 
That  is  all,  I  think." 

There  was  a  long,  awed  silence.     Mr.  La 
tham,  leaning  against  the  giant  cube,  stared 
thoughtfully  at  his  toes;  Mr.  Schultze  was 
204 


THE    GREAT   CUBE 

peering  curiously  about  him,  thence  off  into 
the  gloom ;  Mr.  Czenki  still  had  a  question. 

"I  understand  that  all  the  diamonds  were 
made  in  that  disk-like  shape,"  he  remarked  at 
last.  "Then  the  uncut  stones  that  were  stolen 
were — " 

"They  were  natural  stones,"  interrupted 
Mr.  Wynne,  "imported  for  purposes  of  study 
and  experiment.  I  told  Chief  Arkwright  the 
truth,  but  not  all  of  it.  In  the  last  twenty 
years  Mr.  Kellner  had  destroyed  some  twenty 
thousand  dollars'  worth  of  diamonds  in  this 
way.  I  may  add  that  while  Mr.  Kellner  had 
succeeded  in  making  diamonds  of  large  size  he 
had  never  made  a  perfect  one  until  eight  years 
ago.  But  meanwhile  the  expenses  of  the 
work,  as  you  will  understand,  were  enormous, 
so  during  the  past  eight  years  about  a  million 
dollars'  worth  of  diamonds  have  been  sold, 
one  or  two  at  a  time,  to  meet  this  expense." 
205 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

He  paused  a  moment,  then  resumed  mu 
singly  : 

"All  this,  you  understand,  is  not  the  work  of 
a  day.  Mr.  Kellner  was  nearly  eighty-one 
years  old,  and  it  was  fifty-eight  years  ago 
that  he  began  work  here.  The  cubes  there  were 
made  and  placed  in  position  thirty  years  ago ; 
the  guns  have  been  there  for  twenty-eight 
years — so  long,  in  fact,  that  recollection  of 
them  has  passed  from  the  minds  of  the  men 
who  made  them.  And,  until  four  years  ago,  he 
was  assisted  by  his  son,  Miss  Kellner's  father, 
and  her  brother.  There  was  some  explosion  in 
this  chamber  where  we  stand  which  killed  them 
both,  and  since  then  he  has  worked  alone.  His 
son — Miss  Kellner's  father — was  the  inventor 
of  the  machine  which  has  enabled  us  to  cut  all 
the  stones  I  showed  you.  I  mailed  the  appli 
cation  for  patent  on  this  machine  to  Washing 
ton  three  days  ago.  It  is  as  intricate  as  a  lino- 
206 


THE  GREAT  CUBE 

type  and  delicate  as  a  chronometer,  but  it  does 
the  work  of  fifty  expert  hand-cutters.  Until 
patent  papers  are  granted  I  must  ask  that  I 
be  allowed  to  protect  that." 

Mr.  Latham  turned  upon  him  quickly. 

"But  you've  explained  all  this  to  us  fully," 
he  exclaimed  sharply,  indicating  the  cube  and 
the  guns.  "We  could  duplicate  that  if  we 
liked." 

"Yes,  you  could,  Mr.  Latham,"  replied  Mr. 
Wynne  slowly,  "but  you  can't  duplicate  the 
brain  that  isolated  absolutely  pure  carbon 
from  the  charred  residue  of  brown  sugar. 
That  brain  was  Mr.  Kellner's ;  the  secret  died 
with  him !" 

Again  there  was  a  long  silence,  broken  at 
last  by  Mr.  Schultze : 

"Dat  means  no  more  diamonds  can  be  made 
undil  some  one  else  can  make  der  pure  carbon, 
ain'd  id?    Yah!    Und  dat  brings  us  down  to 
207 


THE    DIAMOND    MASTER 

der  question,  How  many  diamonds  are  made 
alretty?" 

"The  diamonds  I  showed  you  gentlemen 
were  all  that  have  been  cut  thus  far,"  replied 
Mr.  Wynne.  "Less  than  twenty  of  the  disks 
were  used  in  making  them.  There  are  now 
some  five  hundred  more  of  those  disks  in  exist 
ence — roughly  a  billion  dollars'  worth — so 
you  see  I  am  prepared  to  hold  you  to  my 
proposition  that  you  buy  one  hundred  million 
dollars'  worth  of  them  at  one-half  the  carat 
price  you  now  pay  in  the  open  market." 

Mr.  Latham  passed  one  hand  across  a  brow 
bedewed  with  perspiration,  and  stared  help 
lessly  at  the  German. 

"The  work  of  cutting  could  go  on  steadily 
here,  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Czenki,"  Mr. 
Wynne  resumed  after  a  moment.  "The  se 
crecy  of  this  place  has  not  been  violated  for 
forty  years.  We  are  now  one  hundred  and 
208 


THE    GREAT   CUBE 

seventy  feet  below  ground  level,  in  a  gallery 
of  the  abandoned  coal  mine  which  gave  Coal- 
dale  its  name,  reached  underground  from  the 
cellar  in  the  cottage.  Roofs  and  walls  of  the 
entire  place  are  shored  up  to  insure  safety, 
and  heavy  felts  make  this  chamber  sound 
proof,  smothering  even  the  detonation  of  the 
guns.  Mr.  Czenki  is  the  man  to  do  the  work. 
Mr.  Kellner,  for  ten  years,  held  him  to  be  the 
first  expert  in  the  world,  and  it  would  be  car 
rying  out  his  wishes  if  Mr.  Czenki  would 
agree.  If  he  does  not  7  shall  undertake  it, 
and  flood  the  market!"  His  voice  hardened 
a  little.  "And,  gentlemen,  call  off  your  detec 
tives.  The  secret  now  is  more  yours  than 
mine.  It  destroys  you  if  it  becomes  known, 
not  me!  The  New  York  police  have  turned 
this  end  of  the  investigation  over  to  the  local 
police,  and  they  are  fools ;  all  the  forms  have 
been  complied  with,  so  this  place  is  safe.  Now 
209 


THE   DIAMOND    MASTER 

call  off  your  men!  On  the  day  the  last  dia 
mond  is  delivered  to  you,  and  the  payment  of 
one  hundred  million  dollars  is  completed, 
everything  here  will  be  destroyed.  That's 
all!" 

"One  hundred  million  dollars !"  repeated 
Mr.  Latham.  "Even  if  we  accept  the  propo 
sition,  Schultze,  how  can  we  raise  that  enor 
mous  sum  within  a  year,  and  preserve  the 
secret?" 

"Id  ain'd  a  question  of  can,  Laadham — 
id's  a  question  of  musd,'*  was  the  reply.  He 
thoughtfully  regarded  Mr.  Wynne.  "Id's 
only  Sunday  nighd,  yed ;  we  haf  undil  Thurs 
day  to  answer,  you  remember."  He  turned  to 
Mr.  Latham,  with  a  recurrence  of  whimsical 
philosophy.  "Think  of  id,  Laadham,  der  al- 
chemisds  tried  for  dhree  thousand  years  to 
make  a  piece  of  gold  so  big  as  a  needle-point 
und  didn'd;  und  he  made  diamonds  so  big  as 
210 


THE    GREAT    CUBE 

your  fist  mit  a  liddle  cordide  und  some  elec- 
dricity !    'Meln  'Gott,  man !    Think  of  id !" 

The  jewelers  accepted  Mr.  Wynne's  propo 
sition.  Mr.  Wynne  bowed  his  thanks,  and 
handed  to  Mr.  Czenki  a  scientific  periodical 
opened  at  a  page  which  bore  a  head-line : 


Newly  Discovered  Property  of  Radium. 

Diamonds,  Rubies,  Emeralds  and  Sapphires 

Changed  in  Color  by  Exposure  of  One 

Month  to  Radium. 


For  the  fourth  time  Red  Haney  underwent 
the  "third  degree."  It  culminated  in  a  full 
confession  of  the  murder  of  Mr.  Kellner. 
There  had  been  no  accomplice. 

"Yer  see,  Chief,"  he  explained  apologet 
ically,  "you  an'  that  other  guy"  (meaning 
Mr.  Birnes)  "was  so  dead  set  on  sayin'  there 
211 


THE   DIAMOND   MASTER 

was  somebody  else  in  it,  an'  was  so  ready  wit* 
yer  descriptions,  that  it  looked  good  to  me,  an* 
I  said  'Sure,'  but  /  done  it." 


THE    END 


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